


Descensum

by zuxxa



Series: Reborn [1]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Murder House
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And I'm going to hell lmao, Bisexuality, Canon-Typical Violence, Dimension Travel, F/F, F/M, Gen, I now know how this is going to end, M/M, Modern Girl in AHS, Rating May Change, Reincarnation, Self-Insert, Time Travel, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2020-10-06 11:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20505959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zuxxa/pseuds/zuxxa
Summary: She was lowered into the ground, and then kept falling.[Self-Insert as Violet's sister]ON INDEFINITE HIATUS





	1. The House

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! Firstly, I’d like to say thank you to those of you who clicked on this story. I’m not sure where it’ll go, or if it even will go anywhere, but this is the first creative writing piece I’ve written as somebody over the age of 13 that I’ve actually put out into the world. Whether my doing this is a good or bad thing remains to be seen, though I truly hope it will be the former. I’m a far better artist than a writer, so I apologize if this isn’t great, and highly encourage constructive criticism.

God, she was tired.

She hid her yawning mouth behind her hand and turned her head to look outside the window. She hadn’t been able to sleep the night prior due to stress and adrenaline, and the coffee she’d practically injected into her bloodstream this morning hadn’t helped any. Her heart was pounding while her eyes stung, and every time she thought about it she wanted to cry.

The feeling of weight shifting next to her made her look over to see her sister, Violet, getting more comfortable by leaning her shins against the back of the passenger’s seat. She was scrolling through her iPod, presumably looking for a new song to play. _Ah, iPods._ Apart from the whole holy-crap-I’m-in-a-TV-show thing, the older technology was definitely the most difficult thing for Catherine Harmon to get used to. That and the lack of music. There were a good couple songs she regularly wished she could listen to.

“How much longer?” her sister asked.

_Here we go. _She rolled her eyes fondly. Violet was _not_ a fan of long road trips.

“We’re almost there, Vi,” Ben, her father, said and she could hear the amusement in his voice.

Violet groaned and settled back into her seat. Catherine took a sip of her second iced coffee of the day, and comfortable silence filled the car once more.

The silence didn’t last long, however, as fifteen minutes later her sister spoke back up. “How much _longer?”_

“We’re almost there,” her father patiently responded.

“Would you shut up? Asking every five minutes won’t change anything.” Catherine’s tone was humorous, yet she still received a death glare. She tried not to laugh.

“Hey, calm down back there,” her mother, Vivien, spoke from the front. “Focus on the scenery instead. Look, the light’s different out here. Softer somehow.”

“Yeah, it’s called smog,” said Violet.

She heard her father’s brief snicker. “You should be excited, Vi. You can stop sneaking cigarettes and just start taking deep breaths.”

The comment startled a laugh out of Cat, and she could see her sister’s lips twitching.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Violet tried to change the subject.

“Ten minutes, Vi, can you handle that?” Ben was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

Violet groaned and went back to fiddling with her iPod.

“You know,” he said cheekily, “I’m glad we named you Violet… Instead of our second choice.”

Vi looked curious. “Which was..?”

“Sunshine,” Vivien responded, and the sound of chuckles filled the car.

True to her father’s words, ten minutes later they’d arrived at the house.

_This is bizarre._

Although she knew that the inexplicable (she refused to use the word “supernatural” since in her eyes, they were just as natural as humans) existed ever since she realized which family she’d been re-born into, she’d never actually had any kind of experience post-reincarnation. Being in front of the Murder House of all places, she suddenly felt the gravity of the situation.

She and her family made their way over to the front door, and she couldn’t keep her eyes off of the windows. _I wonder if we’re being watched. What am I saying? We’re fresh meat. Of course we’re being watched._

Her dad rung the doorbell and wrapped an arm around her mom. “I love it. Don’t you love it, hon? I mean, look at it, it looks even better than it did online.”

Her mom hummed. “Yeah, it… it’s interesting.”

Violet crossed her arms, looking unimpressed. “Great, so we’re the Addams Family now.”

Catherine couldn’t help herself, as she quietly whistled part of the jingle and grinned at Violet when she heard her snap her fingers twice.

“Oh come on, you two, isn’t this place amazing?”

Violet opened her mouth to say something, but the door swung open and her sister shut her mouth.

The woman behind it looked exactly how Catherine remembered her: pasty, middle-aged, with a hairdo that screamed “conservative suburban mom,” and an outfit that she couldn’t picture being flattering on anybody. Her over-the-top practiced smile made Cat want to sneer, and judging by the look on her sister’s face, she wasn’t the only one.

“Welcome! Please, come in,” the woman that had previously introduced herself as Marcy said, and politely ushered them in through the door. “I trust your drive here was pleasant?”

“It was certainly… eventful. So many new things to look at,” Vivien responded with a slightly forced laugh.

“Oh, I imagine things are a bit different over on the East Coast. I wouldn’t know. I’ve never left the state, you see!”

Her mom was clearly unsure as to how to respond, so her dad decided to intervene with a smile. “So, what can you tell us about the house?”

Marcy’s eyebrows twitched, and she began her real-estate agent spiel. “Well, this house is a _beautiful_ classic L.A. Victorian. Built around 1920 by the doctor to the stars of the time! Oh, it’s just fabulous. These here are _real_ Tiffany fixtures. As you can see, the previous owners really loved this place like a child. They restored everything.”

Her mother hummed in interest.

Ben looked over at Cat with an impressed smile and drawled out, “_Tiffany_. Wow.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled when he playfully jabbed her arm with his elbow.

Marcy was going on about the kitchen now, and Catherine tuned her out. She found Violet in the library and asked, “Wanna come check the upstairs out?”

Violet’s face brightened and she nodded.

She walked back to the kitchen and grabbed her dad’s attention. “Me and Vi are gonna go upstairs and explore.”

“What, getting bored?”

“Yes,” Violet responded.

He chuckled and nodded his head. “Go on, then. We’ll call you down if you’re not back by the time we come to a decision.”

Cat perked up and turned to Violet. “Come on. There has to be a bathroom somewhere around here, right?”

They found the first story half-bathroom, and after Violet went, they walked up the stairs. A door caught Catherine’s attention, and she began walking towards it. She turned to her sister. “Do you wanna split up, or explore things together?”

Violet looked down the length of the hallway. “Uhhh, let’s split up. I wanna see what’s back there.”

Catherine nodded with a smile. “Alright, well, guess that just means I get to jump out and scare you.”

“Not if I get you first,” Violet grinned and started walking away. Catherine turned the doorknob and entered what looked to be a bedroom.

It was definitely larger than her room in their apartment, but it wasn’t large enough to be the master bedroom. The double bed looked comfortable, and she could help but lay down on it. _Damn, that’s comfy_. She giggled and stood up. The room looked cozy, and if they got the house she was definitely claiming it as her own. She noticed an en-suite bathroom and opened the door to come face to face with a beautiful floor-length mirror. _Dang, that shower looks amazing._ Yes, she was definitely calling dibs on this room.

She exited the bedroom and saw another door at the end of the hallway, before it turned right. _Another bedroom, maybe?_ She paused in her step when she realized that the door was closed. _Violet had to have gone in there, right? She could be hiding to try and scare me; she did say she’d try to get me first._ Narrowing her eyes, she slowly made her way over to the room. The sound of her heels clacking on the wooden floor was nearly as deafening as the sound of her heart rate picking up.

She noticed a broom closet to her left, and her breath hitched. _That’s a much better place to hide. She could be in there._ Bracing herself, she quickly slid the door open and thought she saw Violet, though it was only a trick of her mind. She sighed in relief.

“BOO!”

Later, Catherine would vehemently deny that she jumped and shrieked like a little girl when her sister popped out from behind her, but at that moment she did just that. She spun around, nearly losing her balance in the process, and placed her hand over her racing heart only to see Violet double over while laughing.

_That bitch!_

“You bitch!” she exclaimed, breathless.

“I- hahaha. I did say I’d get you first,” Vi managed to get out, before leaning against the wall and calming herself down.

“Where were you even hiding?” she asked incredulously.

She pointed behind her, amusement still in her eyes. “Behind that archway. I finished snooping around and was gonna check out the room you were in, you slowpoke.”

Cat rolled her eyes at the name. “Ugh, alright. Though if we do end up getting this house, I’m calling dibs on that room.”

Violet huffed. “No fair. Whatever, I liked the room in the back anyway.” She walked off towards the stairs.

Taking one more breath to help calm her heart, Catherine opened the door that was her original goal, and saw that it was indeed a bedroom. _A master bedroom, too, by the looks of it._ _If the huge bed in the middle is any indication, anyway._ Though she wasn’t a huge fan of modern furniture like this, the bed at least looked comfortable. Her nose wrinkled at the thought of what her parents might do on that bed.

“Oookay, time to move on.” She closed the door and walked into the only other room she could see. _This must be the one Violet was talking about._

It was an attractive room, she supposed. Definitely big enough for her sister to be satisfied. _I wonder if we’ll get to have sleepovers again._ She and her sister used to sleep over at each other’s bedroom all the time. The nights spent watching bad horror movies, listening to music, reading, and eating food that made them break out the next day were some of her favorites. For about the last year or so, however, Violet seemed to prefer her own company and always gave vague answers to any slumber party requests Catherine would bring up.

She spotted the door to the en-suite bathroom and her breath got caught in her throat. For how foggy her memory of the show could be nowadays, she still remembered one part well. She turned the doorknob and pushed it open. The first thing she saw was the bathtub. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

_I’m an idiot._

As if on autopilot, she shut the door and exited the bedroom. She saw her sister exiting the room by the stairs, and felt an urge to pull her into a hug. She knew it’d be odd, however, so she settled for a smile. _Please don’t suspect anything._

“Hey! You finished?”

Violet hummed affirmatively. “You?”

“Yup! It’s a really pretty house.”

“I guess… Outside’s definitely cool, though.”

“Maybe we should head downstairs,” she said. “Mom and Dad might want our opinion on it.”

Violet snorted. “When have they ever wanted our opinion on anything?”

She frowned. “They ask for my opinion all the time, what are you talking about?”

Her sister looked indignant. “What? Really?” She huffed and crossed her arms. “Of course they do. You’re the golden child.”

Cat picked up a strand of her dark, curly hair and tried to diffuse the situation. “Looks pretty brown to me.”

Violet rolled her eyes with a smile. “Well, at least your humor still sucks.”

She grinned a bit more genuinely. _There we go. Fake it ‘til you make it._ “We really should be getting back, though.”

At Violet’s nod of assent, they descended the stairs and immediately saw Hallie, their mother’s dog, running past them.

“Shoot,” she heard Vivien’s distant voice say, “I should go get her before she pees on the floor or something.”

“It’s fine, Viv,” Ben responded, “You trained her yourself. She’s well-behaved.”

“We’ll go get her, Mom, it’s fine!” Catherine called out.

“Oh… Thanks, honey.” If she wasn’t mistaken, her mother sounded disappointed. _Maybe she was trying to escape Marcy. Oops._

Sharing a glance with her sister, she realized that they’d come to the same conclusion.

“Vámonos, I guess,” said Violet, and gestured towards the sound of Hallie’s yips.

Catherine heard the sound of a floorboard creaking, and spun her head to look in its direction. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but what she got was empty air. _That’s not unsettling or anything…_ She looked back in front of her and saw Hallie barking at a closed door.

“What are you yapping at?” Violet asked as Catherine picked the dog up and tried to calm her down.

“Looks spooky,” she tried to keep her tone light-hearted, but she could hear a hint of fear creep in.

Of course, her comment only spurred Violet on as she got that challenging gleam in her eyes. She tried to open the door to no avail.

“It’s probably locked, Vi.” She had a pretty good idea as to what was behind the door, and felt a sense of dread.

Her sister wasn’t listening, however, and with a particularly rough shove, she finally got the door to open. She turned to her with a raised eyebrow (that she totally learned from her, by the way) and a smug expression on her face.

Catherine rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

Violet snickered and started walking down the stairs, leaving her no choice but to follow.

The moment she stepped foot beyond the door, she knew that something was wrong. The hairs on her body stood up, and her chest felt heavy. She was finding it hard to breathe, and kept petting Hallie to try and calm down. _Jesus, I feel like I’m having a panic attack just being here._ She had to tough it out for Violet, though, so she followed her further into the basement.

Her sister started scanning the area with her eyes, but soon turned back to her with a “come on.” The touch of her hand on her arm was odd, and felt like it snapped her out of a trance of sorts. Without glancing back even once, she dutifully followed her sister out of the belly of the beast.

She could finally breathe again. Although the oppressive feeling wasn’t nearly as strong as before, it hadn’t gone away completely. She felt her skin crawl at what that might mean.

“…you quit?” She could make out the end of Marcy’s sentence as she and Violet walked over to their parents.

Vivien barely let her finish. “This wallpaper is peeling over here. Looks like maybe there’s a mural underneath.”

“The last owners probably covered it up,” Marcy said. “They were modernists.” _Ugh._ “Speaking of the last owners… Full disclosure requires that I tell you about what happened to them.”

“Oh, god,” her mother mumbled. “They didn’t die in here or anything, did they?”

“Yes, actually, both of them.” Marcy clasped her hands together. “Murder-suicide. I sold them the house, too. Oh, they were just the sweetest couple. Well, you never know, I suppose.”

“I guess that explains why it’s half the price of every other house in the neighborhood,” their father drawled out.

“I do have a very nice mid-century ranch, but it’s in the Valley and you’re going to get a third of the house for twice the price.”

Her father sighed. “Right…”

“Where did it happen?” Violet questioned.

_Say something, dammit._

“The basement,” Marcy responded.

She could see her sister’s posture become more excited a second before she said “We’ll take it.”

_Why can’t I say anything?_

Her parents looked at each other.

Marcy turned to them, hopeful. “Will we?”

Her mother shifted her focus onto the real-estate agent. She smiled. “We will.”

_I’m so stupid._

“Excellent!” Marcy chirped. “If you’ll come this way, I have a few papers you two need to sign before I can hand you the keys.”

As her parents followed Marcy into the kitchen, Catherine looked at Violet.

“I’m gonna go grab my stuff!”

She did her best to smile as genuinely as she could. “Alright.”

As her sister disappeared through the front door, Cat sighed raggedly and let Hallie down onto the floor.

The living room, as with the rest of the house, was fully furnished. For the first time since being there, she thought it odd. _Wasn’t it empty in the show?_ She shook her head. _No point in questioning it now._ She scanned the room for some sort of liquor cabinet, and finally found a forgotten bottle of Tennessee Whiskey. Pouring some into a glass that she found much quicker, she sat down on the sofa.

She quickly drank some and felt it burn her throat on its way down. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ She hung her head down, and brought her hand up to rub her temple. Her eyes shut closed, and the sound of a bird singing outside helped calm her down some. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

_I know, I know_

Her head shot up. The television had turned on.

_You belong…_

Her eyes widened. _What the hell? _A commercial was playing.

_…to somebody new_

A girl was playing with a bright blue dollhouse.

_But tonight…_

She transformed into a doll and appeared in the house. _What the hell?_ The shock was wearing off and her heart was beginning to race.

_…you belong to me_

With a childish, awe-struck expression on her face, the doll started wandering around the house. _Much like I was doing._ Her body was rigid, save for her shaking hands.

_Way down, way down…_

The doll got to the kitchen, and a brand-name pancake mix was sitting on the counter. _This has to be a coincidence. Right? I must have sat down on the remote._ She saw it still resting on the coffee table.

_…along the stream_

The doll began preparing the pancakes.

_How very, very sweet…_

She found it hard to swallow.

_…it will seem_

A man was speaking over the commercial, promoting the pancake mix, but she blocked out his words.

_But tonight, you belong…_

The doll sat down to eat the meal.

_…to me._

The doll looked into the camera and smiled, taking a bite.

Though the music had stopped, the image didn’t go away. The longer their staring contest went on, the surer Catherine was that the doll’s eyes were becoming more lifelike.

It blinked. She jumped.

_She’s looking at me,_ she realized.

The doll’s mouth moved. No, it didn’t just move. It smiled.

_I know she’s looking at me._

The television shut off.

She couldn’t bring herself to move an inch. Her chest felt tight, goosebumps coming to life again. She tried to breathe, but her throat felt narrow, and her breath sounded weird. She brought a shaking hand up to her mouth, forcing the rest of the whiskey down her throat. It burned like milk.

She knew now. That oppressive feeling. It felt like eyes. And they didn’t belong to Tate, or Nora, or Charles, or any of the other spirits that frequented the basement. They belonged to something far more sinister. Something that could alter reality as it just had. They belonged to Evil.

She needed a plan, and she needed one now. Perhaps she could travel to Louisiana; visit Robichaux’s. Fiona and Cordelia might be able to help her. _Or never let me leave since I know too much._ She let out a shaky sigh and decided to put off that train of thought until her mind could handle it.

For now, though, only one thing was for certain: she was _never_ going back to that basement.


	2. Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catherine and Violet bond a bit before the second day of living in the Murder House begins.

That night she lay awake staring at the ceiling. She tried to sleep, but every time she started drifting off she felt something pulling her back. _Wariness, most likely. If I’m vulnerable I’m an easy target._ She turned onto her side and rubbed her eyes. _I’m an easy target either way, though. We all are. _She thought about what she knew about the house. It seemed to enjoy toying with its residents first instead of immediately killing them. _I might be safe for now_… _But that girl. _Every time she thought about the commercial she felt a pit of dread in her stomach, and this time it was so strong it bordered on painful. _I’ve been toyed with already._

A crash sounded from downstairs, causing her to startle. She forced herself to go back to lying still and focused the ear not pressing against her pillow to try and discern what could have caused the noise. A few seconds later she heard a _“shit,” _and what sounded like glass being moved around. _Someone probably just broke something. It’s fine. _She felt her heart slowing back down to a more normal tempo and decided to go downstairs and see what happened. The moonlight shining through her windows and reflecting off the light-colored walls illuminated her room enough to where she didn’t have to turn any lights on to successfully make her way to the door. She went to open it but thought that if there _was_ broken glass on the floor downstairs, she should probably put on some slippers. After doing so, she finally made her way out of her room and down the stairs.

She tracked the sound of running water to the kitchen, and when she turned the corner to enter it, she saw her sister leaning against the running sink with a slight grimace on her face and her hand held under the water. Catherine moved her eyes down to the floor and saw what appeared to be shards of a broken glass by Violet’s feet, along with a few drops of blood. She calmed down immediately.

“Hey,” Catherine said to get her sister’s attention.

She turned her head to look at her.

“You keep doing that, let me go grab you some gauze,” she waited for Violet to give her a nod of agreement and made her way over to the downstairs bathroom. Rummaging around the cabinets for a few seconds, she found an unopened box of gauze inside a first aid kit, and after quickly fixing her messy bun, went back over to the kitchen. She carefully side-stepped the glass on the floor and stood next to Violet.

“I’m guessing this is exactly what it looks like?” she asked with a small smile on her face, which her sister reciprocated.

“No, the glass attacked me,” she responded, making them both chuckle. As Catherine started patching her up, Violet furrowed her eyebrows and looked at her. “I didn’t realize I was loud enough to wake you up.”

Cat glanced back at her. “Light sleeper,” she said, forcing herself to yawn. “You probably didn’t wake up Mom and Dad though, don’t worry.”

Violet sighed. “Good. They were tired enough from unpacking all that shit today.”

Catherine gave a hum of acknowledgment and scrunched up her nose. “More shit where that came from.”

Her sister groaned. “Don’t remind me. Did we really need to bring over my fourth grade science project?”

She laughed as she finished working on Violet’s hand. “But of course! How else will you be regularly reminded that little miss Patty Blackwood barfed all over your shoes that day?”

“_Weak stomach _my ass,” Violet grumbled with a barely-concealed grin, “she had it out for me since we were eight.”

As her laughter died down, Cat glanced over at the glass and said, “You sit on the counter. I’m gonna get a broom and clean this mess up.”

“Yes, _mom_,” Violet drawled as Catherine moved around the kitchen and to where she knew the laundry area to be.

As much as she disliked the prospect of housework, once she actually got around to doing it, she found it to be quite calming. She worked in comfortable silence and found herself growing sleepy when Violet spoke up again.

“It’s gonna be the same, isn’t it?”

She looked over at her and saw a blank look on her face. “What do you mean?”

Violet focused her eyes on her. “School. The girls. The teachers not giving a shit. There’s always gonna be a Patty Blackwood, isn’t there? No matter where I go or how old I get.”

Sometimes Cat forgot how young her sister really was. She was always incredibly smart, even at a young age. She could always keep up with her in a conversation, even though Catherine was technically 25 years older than her. It made it easy to forget that a lot of the issues she had were those of someone so fresh to the ways of the world.

She felt her eyes soften. “You’re right. There’s always gonna be a Patty Blackwood, but at the end of the day Patty Blackwood’s gonna be a sour little brat and Violet Harmon’s gonna be a smart, beautiful, and talented young woman.”

Violet huffed and swung her legs back and forth. “That sounds like what you think you’re _supposed_ to say.”

“Maybe so, but it’s no less true. The more time that passes, the more miserable people like that become if they choose to stay the same. People like us, though, tend to improve. Time is on your side, Vi,” she said and tried to believe that it truly would be this time.

After that, she kept working in silence and when enough glass had been swept aside Violet hopped off the counter, causing Catherine to look at her.

Her sister gave her a short-lived smile. “Think I’m gonna go to bed. I’m tired as hell and should probably get some rest before we go back to unpacking tomorrow.”

“Alright. I’ll probably come upstairs soon too.”

“Thanks for… listening to me tonight,” Violet said somewhat awkwardly.

“I’ll always listen to you, Vi, you know that,” Catherine said as she stopped sweeping.

Violet looked off to the side and half-smiled shyly. “Yeah, yeah,” she looked back at her, “Nighty night, sis,” she said and started walking out of the kitchen.

“Hey, wait!” Catherine called after her, causing her to stop walking and turn back around. She pointedly leaned the side of her head towards her, until Violet rolled her eyes and quickly moved back towards her. She gave her a drawn out and slobbery kiss on the cheek, causing Catherine to adopt a look of pure disgust.

“Happy?” Violet asked, smirking.

“Very,” Cat deadpanned. “Nighty night, sis.” she heard her snicker and footsteps leading out of the kitchen.

Catherine sighed, “right,” and set to work on gathering the shards of glass into the dustpan, until finally dumping its contents into the garbage bin.

In the peace and quiet of solitude, she contemplated drinking some more alcohol to help her fall asleep, but decided that she wanted to minimize any risks she could, and clouding her mind would more than likely do the opposite. She settled on a cup of chamomile tea instead, and hoped the second day in the house would be less… eventful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was kind of short, and I was debating whether or not to wait until I finished the next chapter and post them both simultaneously, but I figured that a shorter wait would be better than a longer one. Also, I have no idea what my upload schedule will be, and I think it'll take me at least 3 more chapters to be able to tell. For now, enjoy what will most likely be a very hectic one lol
> 
> As always, comments and constructive criticism are very much appreciated! ❤


	3. The Neighbors Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unpacking continues and Catherine spends some time with one of the neighbors.

The sound of her blaring alarm clock shattering as she chucked it at the wall, she suspected, was what caused the black lab down the street to begin barking. Catherine turned onto her side and covered her head with her pillow to mute the _new_ persistent sound.

Three. That was how many times she had pressed (more like clumsily slammed) the snooze button. The caffeine high she was on the previous day had come crashing down once she’d woken up and left her severely grumpy. Not to mention _still_ sleep-deprived. She was seriously considering taunting the spirits of the house to kill her just so she could get 10 hours of uninterrupted sleep for once in her _goddamn life, why will that dog not shut the hell up??_

The door just about slammed open. “Hey,” she heard her dad say and she whimpered in frustration, throwing her pillow at him.

“Shut. _Up._” she groaned as she slowly brought herself to sit against the headboard.

“Maybe we should’ve named _you_ Sunshine instead,” he said, humor clear in his voice, but she only shot him a glare that would surely cause a 3-year-old to shake in its boots.

She rubbed her face with her hands and groaned once more. “Just gimme, like, 20 minutes.”

If she looked up she probably would have seen him shake his head, she was sure, as she heard him grumble “You and your mom always take so long.” And after feeling the thump of the pillow hitting the bed, she heard him leave.

“It takes work to look this good, you caveman,” she mumbled, though he could no longer hear her.

She looked at her pillow. _It would be so tempting._ She closed her eyes and huffed._ It **is** so tempting._ She snapped her eyes open, furrowing her eyebrows in the process. _No. You can take a nap later._ She softly slapped her face. _Get it together, girl._ She sighed long and loud and began getting up, quietly whining all the while.

Thirty-five minutes later she was clean (the shower was just as heavenly as she’d imagined), made-up, and dressed for success as she descended the stairs and headed straight for the kitchen. She contemplated chugging some more coffee but decided against it as that much caffeine in her sleep-deprived system would probably just lead to an adrenaline-induced meltdown. _As opposed to a Satanically-induced meltdown._ She couldn’t help but let out a laugh at the absurdity of it all. She opted for a tall glass of freezing cold water instead.

Apart from breakfast and the pizza they had for lunch, most of the day was spent unpacking, though she made sure to take plenty of 10-minute breaks in order to pet the shit out of Hallie. That dog was a cuddle-bug if she’d ever met one and Catherine wasn’t complaining one bit.

At around 5:20 in the afternoon she was in the process of putting away her books when she heard the sound of something hitting the house. She turned her head in its direction, and heard another light _thunk_. She made her way over to her window and peered out at the front lawn, scanning for the source of the noise. There she saw a girl wearing a yellow sundress picking up small rocks from the ground and throwing them at seemingly random targets. Catherine furrowed her eyebrows and made her way down to the foyer in order to confront her.

She grabbed her keys, opened the front door, and after closing it walked closer to the girl who couldn’t have been over five feet tall.

“Hey!” she called out to her.

The girl was visibly surprised as her body startled and she let the pebbles in her hand fall to the ground. As she turned towards her, Catherine noticed, and mentally profusely apologized if this wasn’t the case, that the girl looked to have Down syndrome. She hesitantly inferred that this might have been a certain neighbor’s daughter.

“What are you doing here?” Catherine asked, not unkindly, as she crossed her arms.

The girl, or rather, woman who might’ve been Addie smiled small and spoke. “The rocks in this lawn are pretty. I used to come here and collect them before you arrived. Look at this one, it’s grey and red _and_ green.” she bent back down and picked up a pebble, holding out her hand for her to see.

_I don’t remember this being a thing. _Catherine walked over to her and looked down at it. The woman was right. She had never paid much attention to rocks before but this one, while not an extraordinary sight, was still quite beautiful.

“Huh, so it is,” Cat looked back up at her and smiled. She held out her right hand. “I’m Catherine Harmon. What’s your name?”

“Adelaide Langdon,” she beamed at the taller woman and shook her hand.

_This is surreal, _she thought, but kept smiling. “Nice to meet you, Adelaide. Do you live nearby?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.

“Yup! Right there,” Addie said and pointed to the house next to theirs. “I like it better here though.”

“Oh wow, I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other then,” Catherine noted with an easy expression. Adelaide’s positive energy was almost alarmingly contagious. “Here,” she said as she scooped up a handful of pebbles, “you can keep these to remember our first meeting,” she carefully placed the small rocks into Addie’s now cupped hands and waited for her to respond.

Addie looked down at them with a surprisingly scrutinizing look on her face, and looked back up at Cat with a frown on her face. “These are no good. You can’t just pick up any old rocks you see in front of you, you have to look for the ones that stand out,” she said as she dumped them all back onto the ground. She grabbed her arm and started walking further into the lawn, leaving her no real choice but to follow. “Come on, let me show you how the pros do it!” Addie exclaimed, and Cat couldn’t help but let out a giggle of genuine joy.

From what she remembered, Adelaide Langdon might have been a bit unaware of personal boundaries, but she seemed nice and at the moment she felt like the purest thing in her life. She was sure she wanted to befriend her.

It was three hours after she finished hanging out with Addie, and Catherine was more than ready to cuddle up in her bed with a cup of tea and her copy of the newly-published A Dance with Dragons. _Oh my god, I could totally freak Dad out with my “theory” on how the show will end. _She hadn’t noticed she’d physically stopped moving until her mother spoke to her.

“Hey, everything okay?” she asked with a raised eyebrow and Catherine turned her head to look at her.

“What?” she said before processing what her mother asked. “Oh. Yeah. Fine,” she giggled, hoping to ease her worries, “Just thought of something silly,” she noticed her mother relax and continued speaking, “Umm, I’m gonna go to bed early. I’m super tired.”

“Oh. Alright. I was gonna ask you and your sister if you wanted to watch a movie with me and your dad. Maybe tomorrow night?” her motherly smile made it virtually impossible for Catherine to refuse, and so she didn’t.

“Sure! We should squeeze in as much family time as we can before Vi starts school and is always not in the mood,” she said with a roll of the eyes that betrayed how much her sister’s sentiment frustrated her. She wouldn’t have had an issue with it if they were living a normal life, but now that their lives were in danger she wanted to spend as much time with her family as possible.

Her mom’s smile became wry. “That’s teenagers for you. Holed up in their rooms all day,” her smile then turned surprisingly mischievous. “You should know. You were one once upon a time in a land far, far away, no?”

Catherine’s heart stopped. “What?” she breathed out._ Two nights in a row? There’s no way, right?_

Vivien’s expression became concerned as she said, “Hey, I’m just kidding. You’re just really mature sometimes.” She smiled and raised an eyebrow, “You still look as youthful and beautiful as ever.”

Her heart started beating again and she had to actively prevent herself from sighing in relief. She huffed a laugh instead. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, I’m just… _super _out of it right now,” she gave her mother a kiss on the cheek and started moving away from her. “Goodnight.”

“Night!” Vivien called out as Catherine made her way up to her bedroom with her cup of apple cinnamon tea, where she spent the rest of the night calming herself down enough to sleep by reading and listening to classical music.

Thankfully, she had no dreams.

The next morning she woke up on her own, surprisingly enough. She turned her head towards her bedside table to check the time, but when met with no clock remembered that she’d broken it. Adjusting herself to lean on her elbow, she reached over to check the clock on her iPhone 4 instead (truly the peak of technology) and was surprised by how early it was. Only 6:24 AM. She sat up against the headboard, rubbing her eyes and letting out a yawn so long her eyes watered.

She turned around and looked out the window, cherishing the grey early morning light that never failed to make her feel safe and comfortable. The sidewalk was mainly deserted, save for the odd jogger or dog-walker, and she felt an urge to go out and join them.

_Ah what the hell._

She got up and moved towards the bathroom to brush her teeth and fix her curly hair into a ponytail, after which she rummaged through her closet for anything that might be considered appropriate sportswear. She finally settled on a pair of dark blue leggings, a pastel pink sports bra, a sheer grey tank top, and a bubblegum pink jacket so that she could have somewhere to store her cell phone and keys.

After toasting and eating two slices of bread so she wouldn’t collapse from exhaustion, she grabbed a sticky note, placed it upon the kitchen counter, and on it wrote what she was up to in case a member of her family woke up before she returned and thought she’d been kidnapped. This wasn’t something she did very often, after all.

She quietly unlocked the front door, and after exiting the house relocked it just as quietly. She jogged in place for a few seconds to get her blood pumping, and then started down the block. Seeing as she was terrible with directions, she decided to run a four-blocks-by-four-blocks square in hopes of ending up back at her house with no mild panicking or – god forbid – asking for directions.

When she passed by Constance’s house however, she made sure to get a good look at it. Mainly out of curiosity, but also to see if it looked as familiar to her as the Murder House did. It did not and she wasn’t even sure if the exterior was ever shown in the show, but on the other hand everything familiar to her was slightly changed. She was almost positive that the Murder House of her previous universe had a slightly different layout, with no third bedroom and the bathrooms being in different places.

The people she recognized were also different. Celebrities she knew had slightly different faces. Her mother, father, sister, the real estate agent, and now Adelaide all looked slightly different from what she remembered as well. It was almost as though somebody described their basic features to an artist who had no idea what they looked like. It was jarring but also comforting in a way. More jarring in regards to the celebrities and more comforting in regards to the people unique to the universe she was in. Staring into the faces of Taissa Farmiga, Connie Britton, and Dylan McDermott for 18 years straight would have made her feel even more bizarre for being in the situation she was in. Three actors who all existed in this universe, funnily enough, though she hadn’t been able to find anything on Ryan Murphy.

By the time she reached her fifth block, she felt a bit out of breath and judging by how warm her cheeks felt, she was sure they were well on their way to becoming bright pink. By the time she reached her tenth block, she was almost completely out of breath and decided to stop for a short break. _I seriously need to get into shape._

She walked towards the small park across the street to sit down on a bench. Relief spread through her legs as soon as she rested her body, but her mind was a different story.

_What the hell am I supposed to do now?_ She’d thought about convincing her family to travel to Florida and move in with aunt Jo, but she had yet to think of a way to actually convince them without sounding insane. It was no secret that she loved that woman, but Cat was an adult now. Saying “I want to live with aunt Jo” might (and that was a small “might”) get Vi on board to come with her, but it wouldn’t automatically bring her parents along.

Other than that, she knew her family. Trying to convince them that ghosts existed or that what might have been the devil spoke to her would only cause her parents to make her see a therapist, and though her sister might believe her it’d only make her want to seek out ghouls and ghosties more. Not to mention what might happen if the house caught wind of the fact that she was trying to escape.

Constance and the people she surrounded herself with were the only people she knew had lived there and left alive. _Or left at all, I suppose. Maybe she’s my best bet._ There was always Fiona Goode, of course, but she was still afraid of opening that can of worms. However scary Fiona was there was no way Constance would be scarier, right? _At least Constance can’t make people spontaneously combust. Probably._

A dog loudly playing with his owner broke her train of thought and made her realize that she’d been sitting there too long. Her thighs protested when she got up, but she ignored them and started jogging back home, trying to think of nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I’m a procrastinator. I have no excuses and I’m so sorry it took so long, but I hope you enjoy this!  
The first three chapters were more for setting things up, but things should start moving next chapter.


	4. The Neighbors Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catherine bonds with Adelaide through makeup, and has tea with another one of her neighbors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally could not stop writing last night until it was 3 AM and I’d finished, and I have no idea why. But hey! New chapter! Surprise! Hope you enjoy :)

“Well I’ll be damned.”

Catherine had come home to find her mother standing by the door, sticky note in hand.

“What?” she panted out.

“When I read this thing,” she waved the note around, “I thought you were using it as an alibi to go do something else, but you really do look like you went out jogging.”

“Oh please, I’m glowing.” she flashed her a smile and went about emptying her jacket of its contents. “Wait, what do you mean ‘something else’? What else would I be doing?” She set her keys down on the console table.

Vivien folded the sticky note up. “Oh, I don’t know.” she bit her lip the way she did when she was trying not to smile. “Thought that maybe you met someone cute when you were out last afternoon.”

_Technically I did, but not in that kind of… _Catherine widened her eyes in realization. “Wait, wait, wait. You thought I snuck out at 6 AM of all ungodly hours to…” she raised an eyebrow. “You know…?”

She could see her mom’s cheeks become a bit more vibrant as she caught onto what she was implying. She spoke rapidly. “Go out with that girl. For breakfast. At an IHOP or something. Not to, um…”

She wanted to say “mom, that ‘girl’ is a 30-something-year-old straight woman,” or “mom, she’s a Langdon; do you have any idea how much trouble they are?” but she was so weirded out at the idea of something like that happening between her and someone she was already beginning to think of as a sister that she couldn’t form words.

Vivien spoke up, still visibly flustered. “You know what? Since you’re up, why don’t you help me with breakfast? I was thinking French toast. Yeah? French toast is good. You like French toast.” she didn’t even wait for a response as she headed straight for the kitchen.

With an odd expression still on her face she called out, “Just let me shower first. I have ten people’s sweat on me.”

Her mom poked her head out from the kitchen, looking thoroughly amused. “Oh, ten? Well that does sounds like a physically demanding morning.”

Catherine’s eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. Vivien disappeared from sight.

“Mom!” she exclaimed incredulously. _If she was my first mother I’d know for sure where I got my dirty mind from, good lord._

A distant “go shower!” was the only response she got.

She hated cooking. It wasn’t that she was bad at it, she was fairly decent. She just hated having to constantly smell the delicious food and have it be right in front of her before she could have even a bite of it. Thankfully this recipe was a quick and easy one, and the food was ready before her stomach could get to growling.

“Well something sure smells good in here.” her dad greeted them with a smile.

“Hm, must be that new conditioner I bought.” her mom said dryly.

Her dad moved close to her mom and embraced her from behind, burying his face in her hair. He breathed in deep. “Mhm, that does smell good.”

Her mother smiled gently.

She scrunched her nose up at their flirting and let out a soft “ew”, though she couldn’t help but feel a bit of warmth bloom in her chest. _At least they aren’t at each other’s throats._

Her dad turned to her, still smiling. “What are you doing here already?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but her mom beat her to it.

“She went out jogging this morning. Can you believe that? _Jogging._” she moved away from Ben and started making coffee. “Our little girl is growing up.”

Catherine could feel herself beginning to blush from embarrassment as she filled up a glass with orange juice. “I thought I already _was_ grown up. Why are you making such a big deal out of it anyway?”

Her father got a plate from one of the cabinets and started piling food on top of it. “Hey now, exercise is important. So is working on your drawings and stuff of course, but a balance between the two is important in order to be happy. Besides, the human brain doesn’t fully develop until it’s around 25 years old, so technically you _aren’t_ grown up yet.”

She rolled her eyes and stacked two pieces of French toast onto her plate. “Yes, Professor Dr. Harmon, sir.”

Her parents chuckled.

“Speaking of Professor Dr. Harmon sir.” Vivien started, swallowing a bite of food. “When is he going to start seeing patients again?”

Ben looked up at the ceiling as he thought. “Well, the office is pretty much ready. Just have to make sure everything’s in order.” He looked back down at Vivien. “Tomorrow’s Monday. Vi all set to go to school?”

Vivien nodded and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Yeah. School said they’ll have her textbooks ready tomorrow. She can just drop them off at her locker.”

A distant creak caught Catherine’s attention.

“I’ll start seeing patients tomorrow then. We’re in L.A, there’s bound to be a couple of kooks in need of therapy nearby here, right?”

She ate the last bite of her toast and got up.

“Ben!” Vivien exclaimed in a scolding tone.

“Whaaat?” Cat could hear him chuckle as she followed the noise. “You know it’s true.”

Her parents’ voices were distant now, and she found herself walking into the foyer.

_Ah, shit._ The front door was open. _Probably just Vi sneaking out to smoke or something, nothing to worry about._

Before she could go outside to see if her sister was there, she spotted her walking down the stairs.

“Morning.” Violet greeted her. “You’re up early.”

_Ah, shit._ “Yeah, um… I woke up at, like, six for some unknown reason. Hey, uh, by the way, the door just opened? Like, all by itself.”

Violet looked at the door in silence. She looked back at Catherine, gazing at her intently for an oddly long time. She rolled her eyes and snorted. “Pft. Nice try.” she walked past her and towards the dining room. “I scared the absolute _shit_ out of you two days ago, you’re gonna have to do better than that.”

Her mouth was left hanging open as she stared at her sister’s retreating form. _What the actual hell, dude._ She glanced back at the door and decided to give the front lawn a once-over anyway, just in case somebody was there. Nobody was. She closed and locked the front door.

Another creak was heard, this time from somewhere behind her. It sounded like another door. Her heart was pumping quickly as she turned around and warily began following the sound. She couldn’t help but silently curse herself the entire time.

_I know you’ve done some dumb shit before, Catherine, but this is on a whole other level of dumb shit. No, seriously. This is how every other naïve, conventionally attractive white girl dies in every single slasher flick. “Oh I know! She’ll hear a spooky noise and follow it and then when there’s nothing there, she’ll hear another spooky noise but this time it’ll be from behind her! Yeah, yeah! And then the killer pops out from his hiding spot and stabs her through the eye! Hey! Jim! Where ya goin’? This is some top notch script writin’ I got here!” God, this is stupid, this is stupid, this is stupid, this is so, so stupid._

To add to her wariness, it ended up being the basement door that she heard creak open. She stopped by it, adopting a look of intense skepticism and discomfort.

“Yeahhhhhh, okay. That’s not happening. This is where I draw the line_. _Nope.” She turned around and went to rejoin her family when she heard a different noise come from the door. This time, it sounded distinctly human.

“Psssst.”

She furrowed her eyebrows.

“Pssssssssst!”

She slowly turned around, her long, manicured nails at her sides and ready to attack just in case. A somewhat pathetic defense mechanism, but it was the only one she had at the moment.

An oblong face, accompanied by golden brown hair, could be seen poking out from the basement.

“Addie?” she whisper-yelled in disbelief.

Adelaide’s face broke out in a smile and she beckoned Catherine closer. Hesitantly, she complied, though she stopped a good few feet away from the door.

Catherine crossed her arms and looked around her to make sure no one was listening. “What in the world are you doing here? Did you come in through the front door?”

“I just wanted to say hi to my friends!” she spoke in a chipper, but thankfully quiet voice. “I have some down there too.” She pointed down the basement stairs.

Catherine felt goosebumps rise on her skin at the thought of going back down there, but was thankfully wearing a loose cardigan that covered her arms. She didn’t want Addie to question the reaction.

“Do you, now?” she asked as nonchalantly as she could, trying to channel a bit of her mom. “What are their names?”

Adelaide just looked at her and giggled. Cat looked around her again to see if anyone heard. She was laughing for a good long time. The goosebumps persisted.

“Well I can’t tell you that!” Addie spoke. “They’ll wanna introduce themselves.” _How very comforting._

She raised an eyebrow, trying to keep up the casual façade. “Alrighty, then.” She smiled like she would have if she knew nothing of her invisible housemates. She looked around her once more. “I was gonna go upstairs and put some makeup on. Do you wanna come help me, or would you like to stay with your other friends?”

Addie’s face lit up and she stepped out into the hallway excitedly. “I love makeup!” she said a bit too loud and Catherine had to hush her.

“Alright, how about this?” Catherine spoke quietly as she gently put her hand on Adelaide’s shoulder and walked up the stairs with her. “I’m terrible at lining my lips and doing winged eyeliner unless I’m constantly taking pictures to see how even everything looks. How ‘bout you help tell me when something looks off?”

“Can I put lipstick on you, too?” Addie asked eagerly when they entered Cat’s room. “I love lipstick.”

“Of course!” Catherine smiled and sat at her desk, taking out her mirror and makeup supplies. “What color lipstick is your favorite?”

Adelaide brought her hand up to her chin and hummed contemplatively. Her eyes brightened when she made her decision. “Red! It’s a classic for a reason.”

Catherine was pleasantly surprised. She was planning on doing a 1940s inspired look and wearing pink or purple lipstick would have ruined it.

She turned around in her chair to look at Adelaide, who was perched on the bed, and grinned.

“You have good taste! Red lipstick’s my favorite too. It looks amazing on pretty much everyone, regardless of skin tone or hair color.” She finished setting everything up and started applying a moisturizer onto her face. “We’ll decide on the exact shade when everything else is finished. What do you think?” She looked at her from the corner of her eye.

Adelaide had stood up from the bed and was sitting next to her now, on a stool she had taken from in front of Cat’s bookcase.

“Sounds like a plan!”

Catherine giggled and started applying foundation. The rest of the makeup session went similarly, with Cat asking about Addie’s opinion on various aspects of makeup and teaching her a few techniques, such as applying a concealer a few shades darker than your skin tone on your dark circles in order to cover them better and how to contour properly.

She enjoyed Adelaide’s company, and if she wasn’t mistaken, the feeling was mutual. By the end, Cat’s eyes and lips were as symmetrical as possible. Addie ended up picking a bright blood orange lipstick that made Catherine’s white and light blue outfit look even more vibrant.

They had settled into a comfortable silence, Addie going through all the makeup products, when Catherine discreetly looked at the clock on her phone. It read 11:37 AM. _Damn, if time doesn’t fly._ She took a deep breath. _Am I really gonna try to do this? _She bit her lip. What she was considering felt dirty somehow, like she would be using her new friend. _I’m not using her though, _she tried to tell herself. _I genuinely like her. _She looked back at Addie and quietly sighed. _Drastic times, I suppose._ She went over to her earring organizer and looked at all the options. _What would she wear?_ She remembered that in the show she said something about her husband buying her diamonds. She didn’t have any real diamonds though.

She stood up and opened the bathroom door to access the full-length mirror. Adelaide was too distracted to comment on it. Or perhaps she simply didn’t see a reason to.

_Pearl earrings would look good,_ she thought. Those she did have. She was considering adorning her hands with some rings as well, but thought that it might seem a bit over-the-top to the likes of her. She fixed her hair into a classy yet not overly formal updo and put on the pearl earrings. She wiped invisible dust off of her clothes and turned to look at Adelaide.

“Hey, what time is it?” she asked in a casual tone.

Addie’s head snapped up to look at her. “Let’s see…” She looked back down and pressed Catherine’s phone’s home button. “Eleven… fifty-two!” She looked back up at her.

Catherine furrowed her eyebrows. “Maybe you should go home. I was planning on checking out that diner a few blocks from here at around noon and, well, that’s now.”

Adelaide cocked her head to the side and then lifted it back up. “Alright!” she grinned. “I had fun today! Maybe I could help you with makeup again!”

Catherine have her a bright, toothy smile. “I’d love that! Sorry I took you away from your other friends. They’re important too.”

Addie got up from the desk and waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, please. I see them all the time. I’ll just come back tomorrow!” She began walking towards the door.

“Oh, Addie?” She adopted a concerned look on her face. “Um… I’d feel _really_ impolite if I didn’t escort you back home.” She looked down and fidgeted with her hands. “I know it’s right next door, but I have good manners to kind of a fault, so…” She looked back up at Addie with a hopeful expression.

For a moment Adelaide looked scared. Like she wanted to keep their friendship secret or didn’t want Catherine to have to deal with her mother. Her eyes looked over to the side.

“Um…” She gave Cat a quick once-over. “Okay. I guess.” She suddenly went back to being the smiley woman she usually was around her, but it felt a bit forced. “Yeah! You can come over.”

Catherine gave her another bright smile. “Awesome!” _I feel like a monster._ “Let me just get my purse ready so I can go out right after.”

Adelaide rocked on her heels while Catherine moved all of her necessities from the black purse over to the one that was similar to her earrings in color.

“Alright!” Catherine smiled. “Let’s go.”

They snuck down to the front door and Cat ushered Adelaide through, telling her to wait outside for a minute, before going back inside to find a member of her family. She found her dad in his office, going through his files and making notes in a notebook. She rapped her knuckles on the open door and he looked up at her with a soft smirk.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey! I’m, uh, gonna go out for a bit. Explore the neighborhood and probably eat at this place I saw while on my jog this morning.”

He blinked. “Alright. Sure. I’ll be sure to tell your mom when she asks.”

She flashed him a smile. “Thanks! See you later.” And with that, she was out the door.

“What were you doing?” Adelaide asked.

“Oh, just making sure Dad knows where I’m going.” She looked over at her and gestured with her arm for her to lead the way.

“What’s the diner’s name?”

“Oh, umm… I think it was called _Darling’s Diner_. Looked like a proper 50s themed one.”

Adelaide hummed affirmatively.

They had nearly reached the front lawn now. “Sooo, do you live alone?”

Addie hesitated for a second but then spoke. “No. I live with my mom. _And _her boy toy.”

A startled laugh escaped her. “Her _boy toy?_” She looked over at her walking companion. “Is that her term or yours?”

Adelaide grinned. “I’ll never tell!”

Their mirth died down as soon as they arrived at the front porch. Cat looked over at Addie, silently asking whether or not to knock. Addie rolled her eyes, sighed, and knocked firmly. Barely five seconds had passed before the door was yanked open

She was everything she imagined and more. Short, natural nails gripped the side of the door. An old-fashioned blonde updo framed a face that, while attractive, at the moment was distorted in distress. She was the type of woman that you look at and just _know _she used to be absolutely stunning when she was young. Even now, she wasn’t badly-kept at all, but the fine lines and slight sagging were difficult to hide. Her dark, hazel eyes were wide and gleaming with worry; and anger. They flicked back and forth between her and Adelaide. Something inside of them made Catherine feel intimidated. ‘Make one wrong move and I’ll kill you’ they seemed to say.

Constance straightened up and let go of the door. Her face relaxed into a soft, easy expression. _Yet her eyes are still as hard as those diamonds she covets._ A smile appeared on her face and she chose to look at Catherine.

“Well,” she said with a short, airy laugh, “this is certainly a surprise.” She elegantly adjusted a strand of hair that flew into her face when she opened the door.

She looked back at her daughter. “Where have you been all this time, Adelaide?” she was smiling, but Catherine knew that expression well by now, having had two mothers. It said ‘don’t worry, kid, I’ll be sure to yell at you thoroughly when we’re finally alone.’ Or in Constance’s case, she was more likely to lock her in a closet for a couple of hours.

Addie seemed to know that expression well too, because she meekly looked down and remained silent. Catherine decided to speak up.

She made sure to smile with both her mouth _and_ her eyes. “My name is Catherine Harmon.” Constance’s eyes snapped to her. She continued, gently placing a hand onto Addie’s shoulder, an action that definitely did not go unnoticed by her mother. “Adelaide introduced herself to me yesterday, and helped me find pebbles for my ever-expanding collection.” She slid her hand off of Addie, remembering that Constance had once snapped at Vivien for touching her. “I spotted her again today and invited her over to talk.” She made her smile turn warmer. “She has excellent taste, if I do say so myself.” She briefly looked at Addie. “She gave priceless advice in regards to my makeup.” Her expression turned more neutral, though her eyes were still smiling. “You must be her mother. She did tell me you were beautiful.”

Constance blinked, perhaps not expecting such a positive report on her daughter’s behavior, and for a moment the hardness in her eyes was gone. It returned in the next moment however, though her eyes felt less like diamonds and more like quartz. _A good sign, I hope._

Constance smiled. “Well aren’t you a dear?” She opened the door wider. “Please. Come on in. Us neighbors ought to get to know one another.”

She looked down at Addie and once again gestured for her to go first. She was being unnaturally quiet, never having uttered even a word while in her mother’s presence.

“I’m terribly sorry for the mess,” Constance’s southern accent came from behind her, having closed the door once the girls entered the house. “I’ve simply been worried out of my mind since Adelaide left the house without a word.” Her voice turned pointed at the end, and Catherine could see Addie shrink into herself even more.

“Oh, please, Mrs. Langdon, your house is wonderful.” _And incredibly drab._ “Very inviting, I think.”

“How kind of you to say,” she drawled out pleasantly. “Please, come to the kitchen. I’ll make you some tea.” A smile towards her and a pointed look towards Addie. “I believe Adelaide still has some chores to do. You haven’t cleaned your room yet, remember?”

Addie meekly shook her head.

Constance smiled, eyes still hard. “Why don’t you go do that and let me properly thank miss – er – _Catherine_ here for her kindness and hospitality, hmm?”

Addie finally spoke. “Okay.” She looked at Catherine. “Thank you for today.” A simple sentiment, though it felt more like she was talking about how she defended her against her mother rather than for letting her help with makeup.

Catherine smiled, genuinely this time. “Of course, Addie. It’s always a pleasure.”

Her friend left the room and she was left alone with Constance. _Constance Langdon. _This was bizarre. _I’m about to have tea with Constance fucking Langdon._

“So,” the woman said as she moved to a cabinet. “Oh, please, sit.” She gestured towards a chair. Catherine sat.

“What kind of tea would you like?”

She moved her purse so it was hanging off the chair. “What kind of tea do you have, Mrs. Langdon?”

“Please, call me Constance.” she flashed her a smile. She retrieved two teacups from a cupboard.

“You have a beautiful name, Constance. There’s a sense of security in things that are unchanging, I think. They’re firm, unwavering, and you can always count on them.” She gently shook her head. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to be forward. I’m still unsure as to how much of your name bleeds into your personality, of course.”

Constance let out an airy laugh. “My, my, you’re an eloquent little thing, aren’t you?” She looked back at her. “Such a rare trait these days.” She started taking small boxes of tea down and onto the counter. “I have chamomile, jasmine, oolong, and earl grey.”

“I’d love a cup of jasmine.” She smiled.

“Of course.” She turned on the kettle and placed a teabag into each cup. She sat down in front of her, leaning forward. “So,” she began, “am I correct in assuming that you live in that old Victorian monstrosity right next door? It’s the only place I know of that was for sale.”

She smiled. “You are correct in assuming that, yes. Though I don’t live alone. My parents and younger sister also live there.”

“I see.” She crossed her legs. “And what is it you do, exactly?” Her eyes quickly scanned her face. “You look young. Are you still in school?” The kettle automatically turned off and she went to fill the two cups up with its water.

She gave a light huff of laughter. “I know it’s a bit cliché, considering this is Los Angeles and all – thank you,” she gently accepted her cup, “but I’m actually an aspiring actress.” _Keep this shit up, and you’ll win an Oscar in no time._ She lightly blew into the cup, watching for Constance’s reaction. An eyebrow twitch was all she had to go on.

“An actress, hmm?” she pursed her lips into a smile, and reached for the cigarette pack that was on the table.

Catherine looked off into the distance, making her eyes glaze over. “I’ve just… always felt something more than myself whenever I’ve been on stage.” She fixed her eyes back onto Constance. “I feel more free, more confident, more happy.” She took a careful sip of the tea. It tasted as good as it smelled. “I just feel… _more_.” _Liar, liar, pants on fire._

Constance drank some of her own tea. She smiled at her, eyes now more like calcite. _That is a good sign, right?_ She let out a soft breath. “How wonderful.”

Catherine smiled bashfully and adjusted a strand of her hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to talk about myself so much.”

“Oh, no, please.” She lit the cigarette. “You’re delightful.” She took a drag.

“What is it _you_ do, Constance?” She asked as innocently as she could, hoping she wasn’t pushing too far.

Surprisingly enough, she laughed. Not one of her controlled, meaningless laughs like the ones she’d been letting out before, but one that sounded genuine. She exhaled smoke up into the air.

“Oh, sugar, you’re very kind, but I doubt you can’t tell.”

Catherine furrowed her eyebrows. _What’s that supposed to mean?_

Deciding she’d been in silent confusion for too long, Constance sighed. “I’m… retired.”She motioned around the room with the hand that held her cigarette. “I take care of the house and such.” She took a drag. “And I take care of Adelaide.” Smoke punctuated her words.

_Oh._ “I see.” She adopted a look of mild concern. “How is that for you?”

Constance smiled like she was trying to hold back a bitter sentiment. “A mother’s work is never finished.” She took a sip. “You’ll discover that for yourself someday.”

There was no more tea left for Cat to drink. Constance continued with a smile.

“Enjoy your days of freedom while they last. And your days on the stage.” Her smile turned wistful. “There’s nothing quite like people cheering for you after you’ve given a scene your all.”

_Thank you for that, Constance._ She jumped at the opportunity. “You sound like you speak from experience.” She tried not to look too eager.

Constance breathed out through her nose, bitter humor evident on her face. “I do.” She tapped her cigarette on the edge of the ashtray and brought it back to her mouth. “I was an actress too, once. Things on the stage were easy.” She was looking somewhere behind Catherine, eyes glazed over. “It was when I decided to ‘move on up’” her tone changed to one of biting sarcasm, “to the silver screen that things became… complicated.”

She was resting her chin on her interlocked fingers, leaning forward on the chair. “What happened?” she asked, voice full of concern.

Constance stared at her. “My morals got in the way.” She stubbed out the cigarette and gave a bitter laugh. “You’d think it was a whorehouse instead of a respectable, _American_ industry.” _Oh dear, here we go._ “I refused to become corrupted by the debauchery that was manufactured in that… _devil’s playground_.” She sneered.

“I see.” She continued looking concerned. “Maybe I should just stick to the stage, then?”

Constance’s eyes stared at her again, long and hard. _Like diamonds._ “If you know what’s good for you.”

There was somebody at the door. The sound of keys jingling drew her attention away from Constance and towards the living room.

“Who’s that?” she asked.

Constance moaned and rubbed her head, looking tired. “That would be Travis,” she smiled, “my beau. He wants to be an actor, too.”

“I brought home those groceries you wanted!” a male voice could be heard from the front door, which shut closed. “They didn’t have any pineapple juice in stock, so I just bought the-”

“Yes, dear, we have company, so why don’t you just-“

“-pineapples.”

“-put the groceries on the counter?”

An attractive, well-built man appeared in the kitchen archway, looking somewhat like a deer in headlights when he saw that they were, indeed, not alone.

“Oh, uhhh…” he smiled beautifully at her. “Hi.” He quickly put the grocery bag down onto the counter.

“Hello,” she responded with an amused smile.

“This here’s Catherine Harmon: one of our new next-door neighbors.” Constance got up from the table and put their cups in the sink. “She’s an actress, too.” An amused noise. “What are the odds.”

Catherine stood up gracefully and held out her hand. She gave him one her bright smiles. “Nice to meet you. Travis, was it?”

He took a second to respond, and just stared at her. “Oh, uh…” he took her hand and shook it, along with his head. “Yeah, Travis Wanderly.” He huffed a laugh. “Nice to meet you, too.”

_Wait, is he attracted to…? Isn’t he supposed to be in love with…?_ She quickly cleared her head of those thoughts. There would be plenty of time to visit them later.

She kept smiling as she turned to look at Constance. “Thank you for the tea and the wonderful conversation, Constance, but I must be going. I wanted to go explore the neighborhood a bit. Familiarize myself with all the shops and such.” She gently swung her purse back onto her shoulder.

“Yes, there is quite a bit to do around here.” Constance was leaning her lower back against the counter. “There’s a beach, too, if you’ve yet to visit it.” Her eyes glazed over again but she tried to distract her with a smile. “I hear it’s quite lovely.”

Catherine smiled. “I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.” She looked at them both. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Constance, Travis. Please make sure to tell Adelaide that I enjoyed her company very much.”

“Of course.” Constance followed her out the kitchen and to the front door. She opened it smoothly.

Catherine walked out of the house and onto the porch.

“It really was a pleasure getting to know you, sugar. I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other,” she smiled at her, “now that we’re such close neighbors.”

Her eyes were gold.


	5. Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's something wrong with Violet and Catherine finds a dollhouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyheyhey! So, good news! Starting now, I'm gonna try and stick with one chapter per month, because that's about what I've been doing autonomously anyway, except now I'm gonna actually hold myself to a schedule.
> 
> Please enjoy chapter 5! :)

"Well that was awful."

"Hey now, Vi," her dad admonished, "_Rocky_'s a classic."

Violet scoffed. "It's a cliché is what it is."

Cat rolled her eyes and tried to diffuse the situation. "It's not my all-time favorite movie either, but like it or not Dad's right. We should at least watch it once."

"If you wanted to watch an action classic so bad you could've picked _Kill Bill_ or something."

"Alright, well how about next time you get here early enough to pick the movie?" their mom intervened, slightly irritated.

Violet quickly reciprocated her tone. "How about next time I just stay in my room and read _Death Note_ like I wanted to?"

Vivien sighed. "Sweetheart, when was the last time we all sat down and watched a movie like this?" she gestured towards the large bowl on the coffee table. "Look, I even made popcorn and everything."

"Wow, mom. You had to walk all the way to the microwave and stick a bag of pre-packaged shit in it. What a struggle."

"Violet!"

"Jesus Christ, Violet, what's gotten into you?" Evidently Cat's choice of words didn't help, as her sister became even more agitated.

"Oh, like _you'd_ get it!" She roughly got up from the couch and glared at her. "Trying to cheer me up about school and shit while ignoring the actual issue." Her shoulders slumped and she scoffed mockingly. "I'm surrounded by saints."

They all sat there, stunned, as Violet angrily walked upstairs. The door to her room slamming shut snapped them out of it and they looked at each other, flabbergasted.

"What on earth was that all about?" Cat could only shrug in complete ignorance at her mother's question.

"No clue," said her dad, "but maybe it's best if we give her some space tonight." He got up with a groan. "She'll come around in a day or two." He looked at Vivien. "You coming up for bed soon, hon?"

She blinked but her eyes were unfocused. "Yeah. Soon."

"Night, Dad."

He ruffled her hair. "Night, kid."

When he was finally gone, Vivien looked at her. "What was that about school?"

"Nothing!" she said too loud and rectified her tone. "Nothing. We were just talking and she was worried about her social life here. I tried to make her feel better."

Vivien sighed tiredly and rubbed her shoulder. She placed her glass of wine down onto the coffee table, causing the liquid to swirl around.

"God, if I could just go back knowing what I know now…" she mused, frowning. She looked at her, apprehension in her eyes. "I have to hope things'll be better this time."

_That's what I'm working on, mommy._ She smiled reassuringly and touched her mother's arm. "They will be. I know it."

She received a gentle smile as Vivien smoothed out her dark, mussed up hair.

"You're such a good girl, you know that?" her mom pulled her closer and wrapped her up in an embrace. "Even as a kid you were always a little angel."

Catherine hid her head in her mother's shoulder. "What about that time I hit your head with a pot?"

Vivien laughed and pulled back. "In your defense, you didn't know I was right around the corner."

An amused smile was playing on her lips, but she yawned before it could fully manifest. All this talk of her sister's former bullying was beginning to emotionally drain her.

They exchanged goodnights and she quickly went through her night-time routine before face-planting onto her bed and burrowing beneath the covers. And as sleep nearly had her in his grasp, she thought she saw her first mother watching over her.

The best way she could describe Violet at that moment was "resigned."

"You have lunch money, right?" her mother was putting on a brave face, but Catherine could see the worry beneath her mask.

Violet rolled her eyes and shifted her backpack further up her shoulder. "For the second time, yes. I remember putting it in there _and_ you made me check again to make sure."

Vivien sighed. "Alright." She hugged her stiff daughter and smiled when she leaned back to look at her. "Try to have fun, okay?" She briefly caressed her cheek before Violet gently pushed it off.

"Got it."

"And tell me if I need to kick some ass," Catherine chimed in from where she was leaning against the living room archway. "I might not be able to beat anyone up, but I'm, like, real good at getting people expelled."

She expected for her sister to at least give her an eye roll or huff of amusement, but got a mere head tilt instead.

"See you later," was all Violet said and she was out the door.

Her mother looked at her, worried. Cat walked over and rubbed her back.

"Dad was right. Something's obviously eating at her, but she won't tell us what it is if we ask her now." She retracted her arm. "I'll talk to her when I think she'll be more receptive, alright? Promise."

Vivien sighed. Some of the tension in her face eased, but she was still visibly concerned. "Alright." She looked at her wristwatch. "Your dad's first patient is coming in an hour. Call him, would you? Last time I checked, being sweaty and gross doesn't make the best first impression."

She could hear them from the living room. She didn't know much about the young woman who had come to see her dad, besides the fact that she couldn't have been older than 25. She thought about eavesdropping, always having had a passive interest in psychology, to try and figure out what might be wrong with her, but the more considerate part of her won and now she was lounging on the couch looking through Yale's information pamphlet. Her father was a graduate himself; that was the main reason she was considering the university. Realistically, though, she knew that with their financial situation she'd have to get one hell of a scholarship in order to be able to attend.

She tossed the pamphlet onto the coffee table and sighed. Whenever she thought about this topic she couldn't help but grow a bit angry. First and more fiercely at herself, for not speaking up; and second at her family, for not thinking about her education before they bought the house. Did they think she wanted to live off of commissioned art the rest of her life? She flopped onto her back. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ She knew she should have said something, but at that moment all she could feel was fear; and it had consumed her so wholly she didn't even know what to do other than turn to what had once been her undoing.

She turned her head and saw the liquor cabinet. The itch was still there. She could scratch it so easily if she wanted to. Her fingers twitched, but her mind whispered a warning. _"By thinking about it you're making it worse."_ She shut her eyes and laid an arm across her face.

_Dogs are cute. Cats are cute, too. And bunnies, and ferrets. Hallie's especially cute. Her fur is so fluffy and white. White's a nice color. Well, kind of a non-color. _Her mind conjured up the image of a white, frothy piña colada. _Black's nice, too. And blue, and red, and yellow, and green. Speaking of green, I could go for a salad. _Or a mojito._ Or maybe I'll have some chicken, instead. It's been a while since I've had chicken. Maybe I'll make chicken alfredo for lunch. _White wine would go well with that.

She sat up, frustrated. She could feel tears stinging the corners of her eyes. Here she was, able to hear the session her licensed psychiatrist of a father was having with some random girl and she felt like she couldn't tell him shit. She swung her legs over the edge of the couch and stood up. She unconsciously started pacing, running a hand through her straightened hair. She never did realize how long it was until she straightened it. Its length suddenly irritated her and she wanted to rip it off. She stopped pacing and forced herself to take a deep breath.

_I should get a haircut._ She looked it up on her phone and saw that there was a hair salon not too far from the house. She grabbed her stuff and sent her mom, who was currently taking a bath, a text telling her where she was going. She made sure she was presentable in the foyer's mirror, and quickly left the house.

This was a part of the neighborhood she hadn't explored yet. There was a small park across the street from a chic-looking café and she made a mental note to visit both places at some point. She squinted behind her sunglasses. _Is that a drawing of a bat on the sign? Wait, no, I think it's meant to be a frog._ Her shoulder bumped into somebody. She gasped.

"I'm so sorr-"

"Shit, I wasn't-"

"Travis?"

His eyes widened. "Oh! Hey. Uh, Catherine, was it?"

She smiled apologetically. "Yeah. I'm sorry about the whole…" she gestured at his arm, "bumping into you… thing." She trailed off, suddenly embarrassed.

He laughed, a bit out of breath, _was he jogging?_ and held his hands up. She noticed for the first time that there was a leash around his wrist. She looked down to see a beagle sniffing at her leg and gently wagging its tail.

"Hey, no harm no foul." He smiled at her.

She gave him a soft smirk. "That's a really cute dog. Can I pet it?"

He looked down at it. "What? Oh, yeah, sure! Dean's really friendly, so you don't have to worry about any teeth."

She gave him a happy smile and squatted down, showing the puppy her limp hand. He sniffed it excitedly and gave her thumb a lick. She giggled and began petting him.

"Aww, who's a good boy?"

She looked up when she noticed Travis moving and watched him kneel down to her height, letting out a breath in effort. He smirked at her, and she cursed her heart for skipping a beat. He really was gorgeous. _Ugh, that line of thinking will get you killed, stop it._

"I was honestly really surprised when I first met him," he said, scritching Dean's back. "I had a beagle as a kid and she was the most hyper little thing I'd ever met." He chuckled and she could feel her cheeks warm as his bright blue eyes kept staring at her. "This little guy's really calm, though."

She looked down, unable to hold his gaze any longer, and began rubbing Dean's now-exposed belly. She composed herself as best she could and looked back up.

"I can see that. Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you here for so long," she laughed nervously. "I'm sure you have places to be." She stood up and for a moment the sight of him staring up at her from his position on the ground made her body feel things she _really_ didn't want it to feel.

He followed suit and waved his hand as though he was trying to wipe her worries away. "Nah, don't worry about it." _Stop smiling, dammit, you're murdering me._ "You have this nice aura about you. It's made me just a bit happier both times I've seen you now."

_Shit, fuck, stop it._ She couldn't help herself though, as she smiled, bit her lip, and with a raised eyebrow said "I bet you say that to all the girls."

His grin broadened. "Only ones that share your name."

_AAHH._ She giggled behind her hand, completely flustered. "You're good at talking, you know that?"

He chuckled. He hasn't blinked a whole lot, she realized. The foolish part of her brain (apparently the part that was winning) hoped that it was because he didn't want to take his eyes off of her. "I've heard that once or twice."

They simply stared at each other for a moment before she broke the silence by clearing her throat.

"Um, anyway," she glanced down at her feet. "I should probably get going. Was gonna go get my hair cut."

He leaned towards her and she stiffened, watching him get so close she could smell the faint smell of his conditioner. He ran his fingers through a few strands of her hair and hummed.

"That's a shame," he said softly, looking down at her eyes. "I think your hair's beautiful."

She was struggling to breathe – hell, she was struggling to _think_ – but swallowed and managed to say "Maybe I'll just get a trim, then."

He smirked gently and pulled away. "Maybe."

She blinked and licked her lips, not missing the way his eyes followed her tongue's movement. Her heart was beating awful quick.

"A-anyway," she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and made herself smile as nonchalantly as she could, all things considering. "My point still stands. It was nice seeing you again today!" Her smile became a bit more genuine as she gestured towards Dean. "And it was especially nice meeting this handsome little fella."

He chuckled. "Yeah, for sure." He seemed to contemplate something before he spoke again. "Hey, uh, what do you say about meeting up for coffee tomorrow?" He briefly turned towards the café. "_The Leaping Frog_ has a bit of a silly name, but I swear they must put ecstasy in their stuff or something, because _wow._" He smiled at her laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. "It's amazing."

Her mirth died down as she remembered one tiny little detail. "What about Constance?" She frowned and raised an eyebrow. "I doubt she'd take too kindly to you taking some girl out for coffee."

His smile gentled. "What's wrong with me going out for coffee with a friend?"

Her other eyebrow joined its sister.

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly and huffed a laugh. "It'll be just as friends, I promise." He held the arm not wrapped up in Dean's leash out to her and pointedly waved his pinky. "I _prooomiiise_."

She was trying hard to remain stern, but it was a task that was quickly proving to be impossible. She bit her lip to try and contain her smile and enjoyed seeing how her happiness made his eyes light up. She sighed and dramatically rolled her eyes. She linked her pinky with his.

"Fine, fine! I accept your promise."

"Awesome!" He tugged on the leash to get Dean to stand up from where he was lying down, now on his side. "How does 10 o'clock sound?"

She tried to regain control by being a bit of a smartass. "In the morning, I presume?"

He rolled his eyes again. "Of course, silly."

Of all the nicknames in the world to make her feel all warm and fuzzy inside, she definitely wasn't expecting "silly".

"10 sounds great! I'll look forward to it. Tell Addie I said 'hi'?"

"Sure thing, Kit Cat."

Scratch that. "Kit Cat" was the most unexpected nickname.

He winked as he jogged past her and she couldn't stop herself from staring at him until she snapped out of it by realizing she'd let out a long, dreamy sigh. She groaned.

_I'm so screwed._

Her mother's scream caused her to shoot up from where she was drawing on her desk and scramble towards the attic. Evidently, her father had the same idea because she saw him running out of the master bedroom, holding a heavy book as a weapon.

The first thing she saw was her mother's back, stiff, and staring at something in front of her. When she finally moved to see what it was, however, she couldn't help but laugh.

"What happened? Are you okay?" her dad was out of breath and visibly alarmed, and the expression on his face just made her laugh harder.

"It's not funny!" her mom scolded her, but even she couldn't stop a smile from spreading across her face.

Ben got a good look at the strung-up gimp suit and whistled lowly. "Guess those guys were into some kinky stuff, huh?" He smiled suggestively at his wife. "Should I try it on?"

"Ew, oh god, please don't." Catherine said through the aftershocks of her laughing fit.

That seemed to be Vivien's breaking point as she laughed, directly contradicting her ensuing words of "Stop it! It's not funny."

"What happened?" Violet peeked her head into the room. "Holy shit." she exclaimed, walking fully into view. Her words caused a fresh wave of giggles to ripple through the room.

Vivien calmed down first, and looked pointedly at Ben. "Get it out of here."

Her parents walked downstairs first, and when Violet went to follow after them, Cat grabbed her wrist. She looked back at her questioningly.

"What?"

"Can we talk? Now that the worried parents are gone?" She let go of her wrist.

Violet rubbed her arm and looked off to the side. She took a while to finally speak, and when she did her words were quiet. "Okay." She walked over to the ladder and closed it up.

While her sister was doing that, Cat looked around and noticed a tall stack of newspapers. She split it in half and arranged the two shorter stacks to face each other. She sat on one and motioned towards the other while looking at her sister.

"Now," she said when Violet sat down. "Tell me: did I do something wrong?"

Violet fiddled with her fingers as she kept opening and closing her mouth, obviously trying to find the right words. She finally groaned.

"It's not just you," she said. "It's everyone. It's mom and dad _and_ you. It's like…" she pressed her lips into a tight line until finally it snapped, and she sighed sharply. "It's like nothing ever happened! Like dad never fucked that tramp!"

"Violet!" she looked behind her to make sure her parents didn't hear anything. "Don't be so loud, I don't know how thin the floor is."

Violet pushed herself up from the makeshift chair and started pacing around the room. "Maybe they _should_ hear me."

Cat bit her lip nervously.

"You know? Maybe Dad should finally own up to his mistakes- no. No, no, because it wasn't even a mistake, it was deliberate. It was a deliberate betrayal." She turned around and looked at her.

Cat could see her sister's nose beginning to turn red and knew she was fighting back tears.

"How could he betray us like that? How could he betray mom? How could he betray _me_?" Her lips were parted and she was breathing quickly.

Catherine sighed. "Violet, I'll never forget how with one stupid action he completely wrecked his family. And, honestly, I don't know _what_ the hell happened to make things better this ti-" she quickly caught herself, but her eyes widened instinctively.

Violet looked at her, confused. _Shit, I should've just kept talking._

"What do you mean 'this time'?"

Catherine tried to play it cool. "I mean, like, I know that whenever something like this happens, the person that was cheated on is usually angry and hurt at the person who cheated on them for a really long time." _How the hell did I manage to lie in front of Constance?_ "I don't know why this time it's different."

Violet sighed and stopped pacing. "That's what I wanna know." She quickly ran a hand through her hair and looked down with a grimace.

Now that her verbal slip-up was taken care of, Catherine had time to feel guilty. _The entire time I was over here happy that Mom and Dad were getting along, Violet was in silent misery._

She got up and slowly hugged her sister, giving her plenty of time to pull away.

"I'm so, so sorry, Vi," she mumbled, relieved to feel her sister reciprocate the embrace. "I just wanted them to be happy. I didn't even stop to think how my inaction would affect you."

Violet sighed against her shoulder. "You actually listened to me and apologized. It's more than Dad's ever done."

"But you actually talked to me about it," she said, pulling back. "He's not a mind-reader." She hurried to speak when she saw Violet open her mouth to argue. "I know that maybe you feel like he should know what's wrong, and to a degree I agree with you, but if you never say anything I doubt you two will make any real progress. _I'm_ sure as hell not saying anything to him unless I have your express permission."

Violet looked at her for a moment, her young face more vulnerable than she'd seen it in a while.

"Okay," she said, quietly.

Catherine smiled. "Good." She glanced towards the ladder. "You should go to bed. School's still a thing, you know."

She groaned. "Don't remind me."

Cat giggled. "That bad already?"

"I nearly ate a cigarette."

"What!?" Her good mood suddenly disappeared as she stared at her sister, shocked. "What do you mean you ate a cigarette?"

Violet rolled her eyes and shrugged. "I _nearly _ate a cigarette. It wasn't a big deal or anything. This older chick saw me smoking and didn't like it so she tried to make me eat it."

"She 'didn't like it'!? Violet, she sounds insane!"

"Okay, you need to chill, it really wasn't that big a deal."

Cat breathed out forcefully through her nose. She wanted to ask what the girl's name was or which grade she was in, but she knew that would just drive her sister away. She rubbed her temples.

"Fine. If you say so. I trust you," she said, looking at her sister. "But if anything serious happens please tell me? Okay? I won't do anything if you don't want me to," _well, that lie certainly came easily_ "but I want you to have someone to talk to."

She could see a smile pulling at the corner of her sister's mouth.

"Fine, fine, fine. I'll tell you if anything serious happens. Now stop being so worried, you're giving me agita."

Catherine huffed but tried to relax. "Go to bed, brat." She ruffled Violet's hair, causing her to emit an indignant squawk.

Her sister tried to glare at her but her eyes betrayed her mirth. She stuck her tongue out and left the attic. Catherine sighed deeply. Out of curiosity, she glanced at the newspapers her and her sister's rumps were previously resting on and saw that they seemed to be dated from around the time Constance and her family would have lived here. That got her thinking.

_I wonder what I should do now._ She began half-heartedly exploring the attic. _Maybe I should bring some cookies over or something. Would that be too much too soon?_ Tucked in a corner she saw a dusty-looking dollhouse. _Always wanted one of those._ She considered how difficult it would be to get it out and into the open, and moved the boxes hiding it out of the way. With no small effort, _Jesus, this thing's heavy, _she dragged it to a place she could see it in its entirety. There were two clean areas where she touched it and she looked at her hands. They were covered in dust.

"Great," she groaned and wiped them against her pants.

She kneeled down to get a good look at the inside and saw that it looked like an antique. _Holy shit, it's beautiful._ It looked to be from anywhere between the 19th and early 20th century, and beneath the dust she could see smooth wood that desperately needed a polish. Little lords and ladies wearing ostentatious clothes were in the ballroom, the dressing room, and the study, while two little maids were in the kitchen and a little butler was in the entryway.

_I wonder how long this has been here for. _Now that she had found something as stunning as this she couldn't possibly leave it alone. She went to fetch a rag and fill a bowl with water and went back upstairs to clean it up. Little by little, she uncovered what was likely once a rich young girl's favorite vibrant wooden dollhouse, but was now a dull, lifeless husk of its former self. _I should try and restore it._

She barely finished that thought before she heard movement behind her. She whirled around and thought she saw her mother. Her _real_ mother. When she blinked, however, the vision was lost and she was left bewildered.

"Mamma?" she whispered, and waited for a moment, though nothing happened. She quickly wiped away the tears that were forming in her eyes and got up. _Stop thinking about her. It won't do you any good. _She tried desperately to rid her mind of all thoughts of her mother's wavy blonde hair that had always smelled like spring. _What would she be doing here, anyway? Don't be stupid._

The attic felt too small. She climbed down the ladder and carefully put it away. She went through the motions of stripping and putting on her pajamas, but her mind was miles away. She had forgotten what her mamma looked like by the time she turned four. It was her birthday, and all the kids she called friends were gathered in their Boston apartment. The cake – it had Snow White on it, she recalled – had come out and Vivien told her to make a wish. She remembered that her real mother told her the same thing once, but in her native tongue. For a second Vivien's eyes became blue and her hair became blonde, but Catherine couldn't change her face no matter how hard she tried. The realization made her cry in front of everyone, but she couldn't bring herself to care enough to be humiliated.

She got into bed, numb, and barely remembered to set an alarm on her phone for 9 AM. As sleep embraced her once more, however, the scent in the air was that of old lace and gun smoke.


	6. Dyealogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catherine goes out with Travis, meets someone new, and bakes cookies for Constance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we start, I quickly wanted to make two announcements:
> 
> Firstly, I re-wrote Chapter 1 because I felt its quality was significantly lower than that of the rest of the story thus far. I didn’t add any plot-altering details or anything, but feel free to go back and re-read it! I’d love to hear what you think.
> 
> And secondly, in case you haven't read the story summary in a while, I'm going to be updating on the 1st of every month. I might move this up to updating twice a month at some point, but ever since Chapter 4 I’ve been aiming at around 5,000 words per chapter and I do sadly have a life outside of writing this fanfic, so right now I don’t think that’s too probable.
> 
> Thank you so, so much for reading my work, and I hope you enjoy Chapter 6! :)

She was awake and out of bed before her alarm even had a chance to ring. Part of her thought that the excitement she felt was her mind’s way of distracting her from the memories that came to her last night, but she honestly couldn’t remember the last time she felt this giddy over a guy.

Even though her body was young and hormonal up until nearly a year ago, her adult mind could never bring itself to be attracted to kids her own age, and the face she made when she had to kiss high-school heartthrob Johnny Garcia in a game of truth or dare convinced every kid in her school that she was a “weirdo butch.” Although she couldn’t have reciprocated anyone’s feelings anyway, the fact that guys avoided her after that did hurt her pride.

Stepping out of the shower, she made sure to moisturize her body with that lovely cherry blossom-scented lotion she got from Bath & Body Works. She knew that she probably shouldn’t try to encourage Travis’ affections, but she had found a way to use her feelings to her advantage. If Constance proved to be too troublesome to any of Cat’s family, she could simply work on turning both of her housemates into inside men (and women).

_I’m sure that’ll work out just great._

“Hush,” she responded aloud and set to figuring out what to wear. _Don’t go overboard. Just a fresh morning look will do._

Eventually she settled for a lacy tank top, a cardigan that she’d stolen from her mother’s closet forever ago, and a pair of shorts. _Just because they go well with the outfit. Definitely not to show off the great legs you know you have, you hoebag._

“Oh my god, it’s not like I’m begging the guy to bend me over and take me,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes. “Why am I having a full conversation with myself, anyway? I’m losing it.”

As with her outfit, she didn’t go overboard with the rest. A simple, messy braid and some light makeup, and after grabbing her purse she was trotting down the stairs.

“Well aren’t _you_ in a good mood today?” her father’s amused voice rung from where he had exited his office.

“I’m meeting up with someone,” she said, opening the shoe closet and slipping on a pair of sandals.

“Are you, now?” he asked eagerly and took a sip of coffee. Or maybe it was tea. Whatever it was, it was hot enough to emit steam. “Anyone cute?”

She rolled her eyes with a smile. Of course that’d be his first question. Even though she had told her parents that she was capable of being attracted to both men and women, her lack of attraction to what she viewed as children caused them to perk up any time they thought she might possibly be interested in someone. Still, she decided to indulge him.

“Yes, actually. He’s very handsome.”

“Ah, so they’re a ‘he’, hmm?” he rubbed his chin contemplatively. “Have I met him?”

She snorted a laugh. “I don’t think so. And even if you have, I doubt you’d guess right.”

He seemed to take that as a challenge, since she saw the competitive gleam in his eyes she so often saw in Violet’s.

“Anyway… I gotta go. Have fun therapist-ing.”

“With that vocabulary, I’m shocked that _you’re_ not the medical practitioner here!” he called after her, and she laughed as she exited the house.

Within a few minutes she arrived at the café and, when she couldn’t find Travis, picked out a cozy-looking corner area to sit in. Her phone read 09:57. She nervously tapped her fingertips against the table.

“Hello and welcome to _The Leaping Frog!_” the perky waitress that magically appeared next to her exclaimed, and Catherine startled. “Do you have your order ready or do you need some more time?”

She recovered from the unintentional jumpscare and flashed her an apologetic grin. “I’m actually waiting for somebody.”

“Oh! Alright.” she tapped her notepad with her pen. “I’ll just come back later then.” and with a smile she was gone. Cat let out a shaky breath as she glanced at the entrance. She couldn’t tell if what she was feeling was excitement or nervousness. Maybe it was both. Her phone read 09:58.

After checking the clock for what must have been the tenth time, she finally saw the man himself walk through the door. Their eyes met, and she waved her fingers at him. His face lit up and she once again mentally whined about how effortlessly beautiful he was.

“Hey!” he said as he sat down.

“Hey, stranger!”

He huffed good-naturedly. “You know, here I was like an idiot, _sure_ that I’d be first. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting long.”

She narrowed her eyes and rested her chin against her hand. “Oh, yes, actually. You’ve been very cruel to me, sir.” He looked like he was beginning to panic and she applauded herself for staying serious. “I had to wait all of four minutes in this dreadful place. Four minutes!” she gestured forcefully with her arms before slapping her hands down on the table and scoffing. “Can you imagine?”

He relaxed and let out a relieved breath. He looked at her, exaggerated worry on his face. “The horror! I apologize, madam.” His hands grabbed hers pleadingly. They were warm like the sun. “I beg of you, is there anything I could possibly do to make up for my crimes?”

She looked at him with a calculating gaze. “Well… I _have _heard that this place puts cocaine in their food. I’d be quite interested in seeing what that tastes like.”

He burst out laughing and she quickly joined in.

“Okay, ignoring how adorably innocent you sound when talking about drugs,” he said and she beamed at him. “One,” he held up a finger. “I said _ecstasy_. Not cocaine.”

She snapped her fingers and grimaced. “Damn.”

“And two,” he held up a second finger and leaned in conspiratorially, eyes shifting around as if to look for anyone that would get them in trouble. “Name your poison.”

She bit her lip to stifle a snicker and for the first time picked up the menu.

She hummed, browsing through the options. “What would you recommend?”

“Well,” he leaned back in his chair, “assuming you’re not allergic to anything, I’m a pretty big fan of the blueberry almond pancakes myself.” He began skimming through the second menu.

“Ooh, that does sound good. Where’s that listed?”

“Here,” he gently took the menu from her hands. He flipped through a few pages and handed it back to her.

Her eyes searched for the item and she let out an “ah-ha!” when she finally found it. She heard Travis’ warm chuckle and shot him a playful stink-eye.

“Oh damn, a honey-based syrup, too? Yeah, I’m definitely getting that.”

“See? I have good taste,” he said and gestured at himself smugly.

She rolled her eyes with a smile. “Of course you do. You’re out with _me_, aren’t you?”

He bit his grinning lip. “Yeah, I am.”

She felt butterflies in her stomach and tried to change the subject. “S-so, what are you getting?”

“Probably a club sandwich and some orange juice,” he said, putting his menu away.

She scoffed and lightly hit his arm with her menu. “Look at you being all healthy and stuff while all I can think about is devouring a stack of bad-for-me pancakes!”

He laughed. “Ah-ha! But that was all part of my plan! Get you to eat the junk food so I look good in comparison.”

Her mouth dropped open. “I didn’t expect you to be such an evil mastermind, Mr. Wanderly! And here I thought I was meeting up with a nice young man.”

He looked at her, confused, but the pleasant look on his face didn’t disappear. “How do you know my last name?”

_Shit. No, don’t freeze, you can bullshit your way through this._ She laughed nervously. “It’s… kind of embarrassing, actually. I… might have… looked you up?”

He looked surprised. “Really? You were able to find me just by my first name?”

“Well… Constance said you were an actor, right? And I know where you live. I’m a woman, cyber-stalking’s kind of our hidden talent.” she grimaced. “God, I’m sorry, I sound super creepy, don’t I?”

“No, I… maybe this is my lack of self-preservation talking, but I’m actually pretty impressed.”

She let out a relieved sigh and giggled breathlessly. _I need to stop letting my guard down. That’s twice in two days now._

“So… do you have any hobbies?”

The rest of the non-date went similarly, with easy conversation, plenty of laughter, and some minor bullshitting; mainly in regards to her non-existent acting career. She made a mental note to start taking acting lessons. The less bullshit she had to spew, the safer she’d be.

As they spent more time together, she was more and more surprised at how genuinely charming and easy to get along with Travis Wanderly was. By this point in her life, her memory of the show could be quite foggy, and she remembered most of the minor characters as stereotypes, but he was so different from the dumb pretty-boy she remembered him being. He was sweet, and funny, and clever in a way she wasn’t expecting, and they got along far too well for her to not want to see him again.

They were walking through the park across the street as he was telling her some long-winded story about when he was working with a difficult director. “And so there I am, holding that stupid toy casket in my hand, and the only thing going through my head is: wait, so we’re not even gonna go through a re-_hearse_-al?” He looked at her with an impressed look on his face.

She tried to hold in a snort and failed miserably. “Wait, so is that it? That’s how your epic tale ends?”

He instantly deflated. “I mean… yeah? Get it? Because hearse? Casket? Hearse?”

She visibly surprised him when she cackled loudly, and she quickly covered her mouth. “Oh god, I’m sorry, I just really wasn’t expecting that.”

He chuckled nervously. “Is that a good thing?”

“Definitely,” she giggled. She took a deep breath and exhaled with a _phew_. “I’m sorry, please don’t be embarrassed, I have a huge weakness for puns.” She looked at him with a bright smile. “Thank you.”

He seemed to be a lot more relaxed after that, and chuckled. “I didn’t think my ‘epic tale’ would have such a big impact on you.”

“Oh please, feel free to tell me more any time you want,” she said and squeezed his arm.

“Um… geez,” he chuckled and cleared his throat. _Is that a bit of pink I see?_ “I just realized I never even gave you my phone number.”

Truth be told, she hadn’t either. She tore her eyes away from his – definitely, she decided – pink cheeks.

“Right! Here, give me your phone,” she said, and they quickly exchanged numbers.

“So I, uh, have this audition in like half an hour, but what do you say about meeting up again tomorrow? We can work out the details over text.”

“Sounds great!” She got up on her toes and hugged him. “I had fun.”

She felt his chest rumble from his laugh. “Yeah, me too.”

And as they parted ways, she couldn’t help but try and will the feeling of his arms around her to stay.

_I suppose I could go with my plan of bringing her cookies. Or maybe key lime pie? She is from the south._ _Wait, maybe that’s just a Florida thing. _She sighed. _Cookies it is._ It felt odd to be making plans to see the woman she had just gone behind the back of, but even as she searched deep into her conscience, she couldn’t bring herself to feel bad. Constance wasn’t exactly a saint.

As the house came into view, she noticed a man walking towards the front door and frowned in confusion. _Oh,_ she realized. _That’s right. Dad was gonna be seeing someone at around this time._

“Excuse me?” she called out in a friendly tone and the man turned around. _Wow, okay, so probably not a man. He looks young._ She guessed that he was either still in high school or was a victim of baby face. She smiled at him as she got closer. “Are you one of Dr. Harmon’s patients?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said when she stopped right in front of him.

For a moment, she thought that she was looking at some long lost brother of hers; never before having met someone else with the same combination of very light skin and eyes that looked nearly black.

She motioned towards the door with her keys. “I could let you in if you want.”

He nodded at her with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and the expression looked familiar somehow.

“Sure,” he said and they began walking side by side. After a moment, he spoke back up. “Aren’t you worried that I could actually be a murderer or something?”

She glanced at him. “Well you _could _be, but you’d have to be pretty daring to do anything in broad daylight.”

His lips curved upwards and he hummed. His dark eyes looked at her. “How do you know I’m not daring?”

_Cheeky, isn’t he? _She stopped at the door and regarded him with a gentle smirk. “Well, there are many ways for me to find out, but I’m afraid none of them would be very appropriate.”

That startled a genuine grin out of him.

“So,” she said as she worked on unlocking the door. “You don’t have to tell me of course, but what exactly brought you here?”

“I’ve been… having issues at school. It’s kind of been kicking my ass.” He let out a puff of laughter. “Figuratively and literally.” His face became more solemn. “My mom’s been worried about me.”

She hummed and opened the door. “People at school can be really cruel.” They walked inside and she closed the door behind them. “I never could figure out why they’re not the same in the real world.”

“Maybe they just learn how to hide their cruelty.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Maybe.”

Stopping in front of her dad’s office, she rapped her knuckles on the double-doors and looked back at the kid. He had stayed where she left him and was looking around the foyer. The left side of the doors opened. Ben greeted her, and she pointedly looked back at his patient.

“Oh!” he swung both doors open and moved to him with a grin. “Are you my 12 o’clock?”

He smiled that blank smile of his – _who the hell does he remind me of? – but_ said nothing.

Ben shook his hand. “Tate, right?”

Her heart dropped, and suddenly she was grateful that neither of them were looking at her face.

_Constance. He reminds me of Constance._

“That’s right,” he leaned in closer to him. “Ben.”

Ben chuckled, motioned towards his office, and Catherine forced her startled expression to return to one of calm.

“Come on in.”

As they passed her by, she saw Tate glance at her one last time and felt the hairs on her arms rise. _What was that about?_ She shook her head, trying to convince herself that it was just an innocent look and nothing sinister. Now that she knew who he was, however, she couldn’t help but religiously go over their entire conversation, probably reading far too into it. Hopefully, baking those cookies for Constance would prove to be an adequate distraction.

The _ding_ of the timer had just gone off when she heard the front door open and shut. She glanced at the microwave’s clock and saw that it wasn’t even 1 PM yet. _Mom’s practicing upstairs and Dad’s in session… Could that be Violet? School goes until 2, though._ She donned the oven mitts and carefully took out the tray of chocolate chip cookies. Setting it down on the counter, she removed the mitts and decided to investigate.

Her first clue was the half-opened shoe closet. She walked over and saw that a pair of Violet’s sneakers were haphazardly shoved inside. She quietly closed it. Her second clue, once she was up the stairs, was the music playing in Violet’s room. She knocked on the door.

_“Who is it?” _Her sister’s words were muffled.

She smiled. “Your really cool, smart, and hot older sister.”

The music became a bit quieter, and Violet soon opened the door.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a smirk, “that description doesn’t ring a bell.”

Catherine rolled her eyes fondly. “May I come in?”

Violet snickered and opened the door further. Cat stepped into the room. Come to think of it, this was the first time she’d seen it fully decorated. It looked cozy. She sat at the foot of the bed and lounged back, making herself comfortable.

“How come you’re home so early?”

Violet turned the music down further and sat next to her. “Early dismissal.” She briefly picked at the skin around her fingernails. _Ah, the tell._ “Something to do with the Math and English teachers not being given the right textbooks.”

“Uh-huh,” she drawled out disbelievingly. “And they definitely wouldn’t have noticed yesterday?”

Her sister responded quickly. Too quickly. “I didn’t have Math or English yesterday.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Really? Two of the most important subjects and you didn’t have them on your first day?”

Violet huffed. “I don’t make the rules.”

“Violet,” she said in an exasperated tone.

“_Catherine,_” her sister mocked her.

“I know you’re lying to me, sis.” She sat up. “I promise I won’t tell Mom or Dad.”

A staring contest ensued, until finally Violet groaned. “Ugh. Fine. Okay… Something happened and I wanted to leave.”

Cat raised an eyebrow as if to say “go on.”

Violet looked to the side. “…Patty Blackwood.”

_Ah._ “Was it the same psycho that tried to feed you a cigarette?”

Her sister nodded. “It’s so stupid… Brats exist everywhere. I’m not 10 anymore, I shouldn’t wanna skip school just because someone’s mom didn’t teach them manners.”

She shrugged, trying to keep her cool. _Getting angry won’t help any. _ “When you’ve been affected by brats like her for most of your life, I think it’s normal to want to escape every once in a while.”

“But I shouldn’t!” she exclaimed. “My brain knows that it’s not worth it; that they’re not worth it.”

“Vi, if our bodies were in complete compliance with our brains 100% of the time, life would be _so_ much easier.”

Violet huffed and got into a more comfortable position. “So now what?”

She sat up. “Well, even people that never had any major issues to begin with gush about how much good talking to a professional has done them.” She nudged her shoulder. “Pretty sure our whole family could benefit from that.”

Her sister snorted a laugh, and she smiled.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Violet groaned and flopped back. “I’ll think about it.”

Cat stood up and smoothed out her clothes. “Speaking of talking to professionals, have you talked to Dad yet?”

Violet groaned louder. “I will. Now get out of here, I wanna listen to music.”

She snorted. “Alright, fine. See ya.” She walked out into the hallway and closed the door behind her.

“And feel free to call or stop by if you want to reschedule,” she heard her dad say from the foyer.

She considered staying put until his patient “left,” but she had already been too loud walking to the stairs. She sighed and braced herself before descending. She could see them in front of the door.

And apparently they could see her.

“Hey, there you are!” said her dad with a grin and she gave him a forced smile, eyes flicking back and forth between him and Tate.

_Act natural._

“Here I am,” she said and missed the next step, causing her to nearly slip down the stairs.

“Woah,” her dad instinctively flinched closer to her before she straightened back up, “hey there, are you alright?”

Her face was flushed a deep pink, she was sure, and seeing Tate snicker in the back didn’t help.

“Y-yeah, I’m… fine. Just,” she pointed in the kitchen’s general direction, “remembered that I had cookies cooling down. Don’t want them getting… cold… or anything.” _God, you’re making a fool of yourself._

“Okay,” he nodded, still looking at her warily.

“Try not to die next time,” she could hear the humor in Tate’s voice, and her face burned even hotter.

She gave him a nod that came across far more bashful than she wanted it to. _When in doubt, self-deprecate._ “I’ll do my best.”

She flashed them both an awkward smile and bee-lined for the kitchen. _You know, I don’t think I’d mind dying, actually. Just what the hell was that? No, don’t think about it, it’ll just make things worse._ She took a few deep breaths and thought of nothing but cute, fluffy bunnies until her face no longer felt like it was about to catch fire.

The plate was balancing precariously between her chest and hand as she knocked on the door. She went back to holding it properly, and waited for her to answer.

And waited.

And waited.

_Ugh, I never even considered that she might not be in._

Just as she was thinking of turning back around, she heard her voice call out from inside. _“Just a moment!”_

_Oh, good._

The door swung open, and there stood Constance in only a bathrobe and slippers. _Oh, gooood._

“I’m sorry for intruding!” she rushed to say. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I just thought that I should bring something over to thank you for being so hospitable last time we spoke.”

She was clearly surprised, but tried to mask the emotion with a smile. _Holy hell, she looks so much like her son when she does that._

“Oh, how kind of- ugh,” the sentence was interrupted when she looked down at something small and wriggly.

_Oh, hey! Dean!_

Constance gave her an apologetic smile that was half a sneer. “I apologize. I just started a doggy day care business.” The sneer overpowered her smile. “Little monster won’t stop humpin’ my leg.” She let go of the door and walked further into her house.

Catherine blinked in surprise. _Okay then._

“Please,” Constance called out, “do come in. And kindly close the door behind you.”

Cat obeyed her orders, but not before giving Dean a scratch behind the ear. He simply wagged his tail and sniffed her.

“Where can I put this?”

“Oh, just go ahead and set it down on the table,” Constance’s arm could be seen pointing towards the kitchen. “Just give me a moment to dress.”

_Please__, be my guest._ She set the plate down on the table and kneeled to pet Dean, who was still circling her feet. She sat down onto a chair when she heard Constance’s footsteps drawing nearer.

“Forgive me for being in such a… _unprepared_ state, sugar,” she said with a gentle smirk and took two cups out of the cupboard. “Jasmine?”

It took her a second to realize what she was talking about. “Yes, please.”

Constance turned the kettle on and looked at the cookies.

“Chocolate chip?” a genuine smile adorned her face and Catherine was struck by how beautiful it made her look. “My favorite.” She pet her shoulder and walked back to place two teabags into the cups.

“They’re my favorite, too.” A moment passed. “You said you started a doggy day-care?”

Constance scoffed and filled the cups with hot water. She placed them down onto the table and sat down.

“Yes, well, speaking to you the other day got me thinking.” She picked up a cookie as Cat blew into her cup. “I realized I’d gotten bored.” She took a bite. “Brought it up to a girlfriend of mine, and she gave me the idea.”

“You don’t seem particularly thrilled with how it’s been going so far.”

Constance snorted. “You know, I had cats growing up. Daddy had a farm. They were good for catchin’ mice and such. _They_ never made me have to ship our rugs out to the shit-cleaners.”

Catherine nearly choked on her tea, but a quick clearing of her throat saved her. “Wow, um, are they not potty-trained?”

“This one isn’t.” Constance rolled her eyes towards Dean, who was now lying down on the floor. “Money’s good though.”

An idea came to her. “You know,” she took a sip, “you could charge extra.”

Constance looked at her, eyebrows raised. “Could I?” She brought her cup up to her lips. “Pray tell, what would I charge extra for?”

“Well…” she broke off a piece of cookie, “you _could_ tell the owner that for a fee you’ll also potty train the dog.” She took a bite. “You wouldn’t even have to do anything. I helped my mom train our dog. I love animals, I could do it for you.” _And that way I won’t risk you being too mean to him._

Constance hummed, lips curled upward. She poked her on the nose. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”

Catherine giggled. “When’ll you be having him next?”

“Owner’s outta town for another seven days. I could give her a call, bring up the extra fee.”

She thought for a moment, eyes flicking skyward. “It should be enough time, I think. Hallie was fully trained in about a week.” _Then again, she’s secretly really clever._

“Wonderful.” Some would call her grin wicked. “You should be getting something in return, however. It wouldn’t be proper.”

Catherine hummed. “Would you happen to know anything about restoring wood, by any chance?”

Constance’s eyebrows rose again. “Wood?” She snorted. “I did know this one tramp, but I wouldn’t recommend her to anyone with a man in the house.”

_Ah, so Moira might know something._

Constance drank some tea. “Why wood? Didn’t take you for the carpentry sort.”

“Well, I found this beautiful old dollhouse, but it’s in desperate need of a polishing.” She smiled fondly. “It was always my dream as a girl to have one of those.”

“I did, too. Most I got was a cheap, plastic one.” She snorted. “It was this god-awful pink color, too. Ugh.” She pointed at her. “Nothin’ beats classic wood.”

_I hate that I kind of agree._ She still played up her sentiment, just to be safe. “Oh, of course! If you can’t get the real thing, what’s the point of having it at all?”

“Exactly!” She threw her hands up. “And people call you a _snob_ for it, too.” _Oh god, is that what I am?_ “As though it’s normal to settle for fifteenth best. You want it so damn bad, you earn it. You know, I think that’s something that’s contributed to the decline of authenticity in this country.” _Oh dear, here we go again. _“People have everything at their fingertips nowadays. Connie wants a wooden dollhouse, her momma buys her a cheap replica. ‘She’s five, she can’t tell the difference.’ Please,” she scoffed. “People don’t see things as rewards anymore. There’s _always_ a cheap replica.”

Cat took a long sip of tea. “Well… Is there something you want now? Something you view as a reward?”

Dean barked at a motorcycle that passed by and Constance stared through him, face weary. “Some goddamn peace would be nice.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that.

Constance sighed and smiled. “You’d look pretty as a blonde, you know.”

Blinking at the abrupt change of topic, alarm bells started going off in her head. _Blonde? Like you?_

“Blonde? Really?” she chuckled. “I always thought I’d look better as a ginger, personally, with my skin tone.”

Constance rolled her eyes. “You ever known a pretty ginger? Marilyn Monroe, Brigitte Bardot, Jesus H. Christ even Madonna, that whore, do you think they’d be where they got as gingers?” _Wait, wasn’t Madonna’s hair red at some point?_ She raised an eyebrow. “Nothin’ beats a blonde.”

She tried not to fidget as she thought of what to say. “Well… it does look beautiful on you, Constance, but I’m not too sure I could pull it off.”

Constance hummed. “You’ll never know until you try. Could always dye it back.” She played with the end of her braid. “Your hair looks healthy enough. I could have my hairdresser come over. She does a wonderful job with me.”

_Geez, she’s really pushing this, isn’t she?_

“I suppose I could look into it.” _The things I do to stay alive… _She giggled. “Every girl should go blonde at some point, right?”

Constance grinned and clinked their cups together. “Ain’t that the truth?”

Her cell phone sounded from her purse.

“Excuse me one moment,” she flashed Constance a smile and took the phone out.

“Oh, please, take your time,” Constance got up. “I was about to use the ladies room anyway.”

True to her words, she quickly left the kitchen. Catherine checked her phone.

_Travis: How does lunch sound? :)_

She changed his name in her phone to “Caleb” just in case Constance ever accidentally saw anything, and got to texting back.

_Catherine: You know, you’re gonna make me gain weight with how much we go out to eat :p_

_Caleb: You? Gain weight? Impossible! Besides, if we walk around afterwards, won’t it just burn any calories we’d gain? :D_

She shook her head with a smile.

_Catherine: You make a compelling argument. Lunch sounds great!_

_Caleb: Awesome! How about I pick you up at 12?_

She frowned. _Great way for Constance to spot us._

_Catherine: I’m actually gonna be out of the house until about then, so how about we just meet up wherever we’re going to eat?_

_Caleb: That’s totally fine. Do you know where this place called Darling’s Diner is?_

She heard the toilet flush, and quickly typed out a response.

_Catherine: I actually ate there two days ago! Their burgers are amazing. Meet you there at 12? :)_

_Caleb: See you then, KitCat ;)_

She just finished reading his text when Constance walked in through the door. Catherine inconspicuously placed her phone back into her purse and smiled.

“That was my mom,” she said, standing up. “She needs my help with preparing lunch. I should probably go.”

“Oh, of course.” Constance grinned. “Busy girl today, aren’t you? Baking cookies, making lunch… I ought to hire you as a personal chef.”

Catherine swung her purse back onto her shoulder and smiled brightly. “Spending time with you is always a pleasure, Constance, I’m not sure you’d have to pay me.”

Constance smirked softly and followed her to the front door. “Anyone else kept buttering me up like you do, I’d think them a sham,” she said, opening it.

She walked through and turned her head to look at her. “What makes me so different?”

Constance rested her head against the open doorway. “You remind me of someone.” She rolled her eyes and drew away from the door. “Maybe I’m just being foolish, but your eyes…” She smiled, though there was something sad about it. “They’re very sincere. That’s all. Now go on,” she let out a puff of laughter. “Go help your momma with lunch.”

And with a “see you soon” from Catherine, the door was closed.

As she was walking home, she went through her mental checklist:

\- Take acting lessons

\- Finish commissions

\- Restore the dollhouse

\- Potty train Dean

\- Build a relationship with Constance

\- Build a relationship with Addie

\- And build a relationship with Travis

Letting herself into the house, she realized that her feet hurt, and quickly swapped her sandals out for a pair of slippers. She couldn’t help but wonder, amidst all the things she needed to do, when exactly she would find the time to dye her hair.


	7. Housekeeping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catherine makes a friend and panics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! While writing this, I realized that Catherine drinks tea a lot, so I’ve decided to slip in some symbolism whenever she does to the best of my abilities. Not sure how that’ll work out though, haha.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy chapter 7! :)

“I thought you weren’t going to be late again.”

Sydney shut the door. She looked ashamed. “I tried to be home on time, really, I… I did. But Daniel needed me to-”

“Needed?” She raised an eyebrow. “Wanted, more like.”

“No!” Anger overpowered Sydney’s shame and she curled her lip. “Dammit, Jenna, why do you keep doing this?” She threw her bag down onto the floor and began ripping her coat off.

She glared at her and stood. “Because you keep giving me reasons to, _Andrea_. First it was Monica needing your help with her car, then it was Jeffrey needing a nanny for his son, then it was Monica – _again – _needing your advice for her sister’s baby shower present, and now it’s Daniel needing whatever the hell it is you want me to believe he needed!” She realized she was pacing. “I mean, Jesus Christ! At least come up with a more original excuse!”

“I don’t know what the hell it is you want me to say!” Sydney threw her arms up into the air. “Wha- what are you implying anyway?”

The scoff that left her lips came naturally. “I’m _implying_ that next time maybe _I’ll_ need your help with moving your shit out of the house.”

Sydney stared at her incredulously. “You can’t be serious.”

“More serious than you, I think. Otherwise you wouldn’t take the promise you made to me so lightly. _I’ll always choose you._” She snorted and walked farther away. “Please.”

Sydney looked crushed. “What, so, that’s it? Five years together just… erased?”

Her lips became a tight line and she spoke somberly. “As long as you keep lying to me.”

Sydney remained silent.

She dropped her eyes down to the floor. “You can sleep on the couch tonight.”

There was a pause.

She and Sydney looked at the teacher expectantly. Mr. Adams looked decently impressed.

“Are you done?”

She nodded and Sydney let out a soft “yeah.”

With that, the rest of the class finally began clapping.

“Good!” He exclaimed and clasped his hands together. “Now, what I got from that was that you two were living together, dating or married, and you, _Jenna, _were suspecting her, _Andrea, _of cheating. That’s how it ties into the prompt of ‘I know.’ Am I right?”

“Yes, sir,” Catherine smiled.

“Alright. Good! But please remember what we said about volume. You were both still a bit too quiet, but, uh… yeah! Yeah, that was good.” He cleared his throat.

“You know,” he said when they were back in their seats, “I’ve found that one of the toughest things to figure out in theater is what to do with your hands.”

The rest of the class seemed a breeze now that the stress of performing in front of something-teen people was over and done with. She was surprised to realize that what she’d told Constance about feeling good on stage hadn’t been a complete lie. She was far from confident still, but once she got to performing, the anxious butterflies in her stomach all but disappeared. She couldn’t stop a tiny smile from gracing her lips. _That’s one lie taken care of, at least._

Her exit from the building was prevented when she heard a gentle voice call her name from behind her. She turned around.

“Oh, hey! Sydney. What’s up?”

“Oh, uh, nothing much… Sorry, I was just…” she cleared her throat, “I thought you were pretty good,” she smiled uncertainly, “and I just wanted to let you know that.”

_Is she fishing for compliments? _She immediately felt ashamed at how quickly she jumped to that conclusion. _She’s just being nice, what’s wrong with you?_

“Thank you! I thought you were pretty good, too.” She gestured for Sydney to walk with her and they left the building. “Have you ever taken acting lessons before?”

“Um, in, like, middle school? I guess? If you count a 7th grade play as acting lessons.”

She laughed. “Oh, definitely! We’re practically movie stars already, you and I, with all the practice we’ve gotten.”

Sydney smiled bigger and came to a stop when they reached the sidewalk. “I’m, um,” she glanced to the left, “going that way.”

“So am I, actually. Do you wanna walk together?”

“Oh, I have a car… But if that’s not too much of a deal breaker for you, I’d, um…” she let out a shaky breath, “really like to get to know you some more.”

_She’s kind of adorable._ Before Sydney had told the class that she was 21, Catherine had her pegged at around 17. Not because of her height, as she was quite tall, but her bespectacled face had a certain innocence to it, and her mannerisms were better suited to a teenage girl than a young woman.

_Then again, who am I to talk? I was a mess at that age_.

Catherine spoke before she could follow that train of thought any further. “I’d love to, as well! Where are you going, anyway? Home?”

They reached the grey Sedan and Sydney unlocked the doors.

“Umm, picking up my sister from school, actually. You know Westfield High?”

They got in, but not before Cat let out a noise of surprise. “Yes, actually. My sister goes there, too.”

Sydney’s eyes widened. “Really? Wow, what a small world. What grade is she in?”

“10th grade. She’s 15. How about yours?”

“Abigail’s a senior,” she smiled fondly as she turned the ignition on, “and thinks she knows everything about the world.”

She snorted in amusement. “Why, did you never think that yourself?”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I was a mess at that age. That’s what gives me the right to make fun of her.”

At that, she let out a laugh.

“You know, I just realized that Violet might die of embarrassment because of this.”

They were sitting down on a bench in front of the school. The warmth of the early September sun was steadily becoming unbearable, and she cursed herself for neglecting to put on sunscreen.

Sydney finished the iced coffee she’d ordered while they were waiting. Cat was honestly concerned at how quickly she’d downed it. “Oh, she’s in that phase, is she?”

She giggled and swung her legs. “When did we become such crotchety old women? These gosh darn teenagers runnin’ amuck, thinkin’ they’re cooler than us. Get off my lawn!”

Sydney covered her grinning mouth.

Catherine let out a long, light-hearted sigh. “But yes, she’s in that phase. The only person who doesn’t seem to embarrass her is herself.”

Sydney hummed and threw the plastic cup into the recycling bin. “Better than me.”

She tilted her head. “As in, you used to be self-conscious, or you still are?”

Sydney’s back went rigid. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean… I don’t know why I said that. Sorry. I just… saw the opportunity for a joke.”

She blinked. “Oh. Alright. Well, even if you are self-conscious, I don’t think it’s weird or anything. Everyone feels like they’re weird on the inside.”

Sydney smiled awkwardly and looked to the side. “Thanks… I guess.”

The silence was broken by the school bell ringing. They shared a look and stood so that when their sisters exited the building they would be able to see them.

Soon after loud, happy voices started spilling out of the school, Sydney made a noise of recognition and began waving her arm. Catherine followed her line of sight and saw a girl that looked, from this distance, only slightly similar to her. Both their hair was black, and both their skin was brown, but they each carried themselves very differently.

Where Sydney was demure in both clothing and attitude, the girl who was most likely Abigail wore clothes that were very much “in” for the average 2011 teen. Abigail’s pin-straight hair contrasted with Sydney’s afro, either because it wasn’t her real hair or because she’d gotten it relaxed. She wasn’t well-versed enough to tell. Or even know if she _would_ be able to tell.

She sauntered towards them with the kind of confidence she imagined only a rebel or popular kid would have, and judging by her fashion sense, Cat guessed that she was the latter. She seemed like the kind of girl that would have intimidated her once upon a time.

“Hey, Syyyd,” Abigail greeted her sister with a smirk. Her eyes shifted onto Catherine, and her smirk morphed into a smile. “Who’s this?”

“This is Catherine. We met in drama school.”

_Drama school? Well, that’s one term to use, I guess._

Abigail’s face lit up. “Oh, cool! I’m Abby. Are you coming with us to get ice cream?”

_Abby. Too close to Addie. Abigail it is. _She smiled apologetically. “No, sorry, I’m only here to pick up my sister. Ice cream does sound amazing, though.”

“Oh it is,” Abigail groaned, face morphing in exaggerated pleasure, “_A Bit Nutty_ makes some booomb rocky road.”

“With a name like that, I don’t doubt it,” she said with an amused smile. _Were teenagers this extra my first time around, too? _She spotted Violet exiting the school.

“There she is,” she nodded towards her sister, and the girls turned to look in her direction.

It seemed as though Violet sensed the eyes on her, as she almost immediately turned to look at them. Cat could see her eyebrows shoot up even from this distance. She waved her fingers in response, and her sister began walking towards them.

She heard somebody’s breath hitch and looked back down to see Abigail’s face turn ashen.

“That’s your sister?”

Cat and Sydney shared a curious glance.

“Yes? Why? Do you two not get along or something?” _It would be just my luck, wouldn’t it?_

“Um, well…” Abigail pursed her lips to the side in a grimace, “she and my friend don’t.”

She decided to file that information away for later and saw Violet’s expression turn guarded as she stopped in front of them.

“What are you doing here?”

_Waste no time with breaking the ice, do you?_

“Um, well… You remember me telling you about that acting class I was gonna go to, right?” She waited for Violet to nod or hum or do _anything_ to signify that she remembered, but she didn’t. “…Anyway… I got partnered up with Sydney here, and wouldn’t you know it, hah, she has a sister that goes here too! Small world, right? B-but anyway, she was gonna come pick her up, and I volunteered to come along, and… well… y’know…”

Violet was silent as she and Abigail stared at each other.

Sydney gently cleared her throat. All eyes turned on her. _Save me, please._

“Uhhh… hi, I’m… I’m Sydney.”

_Great._

“Nice to meet you, Sydney.” Violet went back to staring at Abigail.

_Okay, that I can work with. _“Yes! It _was_ nice to meet you!” She turned to smile at her new… friend? Acquaintance? “I’d like to hang out with you again, actually. Do you have a number?”

Sydney’s mouth twitched upward. “Yeah, it’s five.”

The answer bewildered her, and she obviously took too long to realize she was joking, because Sydney’s face turned red.

“Oh! Right, aha, sorry. I like that, actually, mind if I steal it?”

Sydney’s blush deepened and she shyly waved a hand. “S-sure, go ahead… Not my joke anyway.”

Another awkward moment of silence ensued before Catherine broke it. “U-umm anyway, y-yeah, here, hand me your phone.”

After that was over and done with, she turned to a very uncomfortable-looking Violet. Abigail wasn’t faring much better if her shifting eyes were anything to go by.

“Ready to go?” she asked as confidently as she could.

Violet’s eyes snapped to hers and she nodded almost desperately. “Yeah.”

“Alright, well, it was great to meet you, Abigail! And, um, feel free to call or text me whenever, Sydney. You won’t be bothering me, I promise.”

Abigail smiled awkwardly and Sydney nodded. “Sure thing! Um… see ya.”

The fake smile on her face was beginning to hurt her cheeks, and after she waved back she turned around and started walking down the sidewalk, Violet by her side. Her smile finally dropped.

She could tell that her sister was burning with the need to talk to her, but she wasn’t stupid and so she waited until they were a good distance away before opening her mouth.

“What the fuck?”

Catherine let out a sigh. “I’m sorry, okay? How could I possibly know that-”

“No, seriously, what the fuck? Do you know who that was?” She snorted, and Cat could see embarrassed tears welling up in her eyes. “No, of course you don’t, how could you? You didn’t wait and ask first.”

“Violet, I’m sorry. The thought that you might be a bit embarrassed did cross my mind, but-“

“A bit!? Try ‘completely!’ Do you know-” her own sharp sigh cut her off. “That was one of cigarette chick’s cronies.”

_Oh fuck, seriously?_ “_Seriously?_” She stared at her with wide eyes. “Oh my god, Violet, I’m so sorry.”

Violet laughed humorlessly and wiped a stray tear away with the edge of her sleeve. “Yeah, I know. You’re sorry. You’re so sorry. You’re super duper sorry.”

She tried to catch her sister’s eyes but couldn’t.

_Abigail did look like a popular kid, but she also seemed relatively nice. How the hell was I supposed to think that she hung out with a girl who’d do that?_ _Would telling Violet that make her even more upset?_ _Do I wanna risk it?_

She sighed. _Screw it._

“Look… Did she actually endorse cigarette chick’s behavior? Maybe she just got caught up with the wrong crowd.” The house was within view now.

Violet’s eyebrows furrowed and she looked down in thought. “She… did try to make her stop, actually.”

_Oh, good. _She nearly sighed in relief. “See? Maybe she’s not a bad person. She was nice enough with me. Maybe she’s just scared to stand up to… what’s cigarette chick’s name, anyway?”

Her sister finally looked at her. “Leah. Leah… something, I don’t know.”

She nodded. _That does sound familiar, actually. _“Leah something. I can try to pry some info out of Sydney if you want. Not obviously, of course, but just… ask her how her sister likes the school. Things like that.”

Violet’s mouth tightened and then relaxed in a sigh. “Nah, what good’s it gonna do, anyway? I don’t care enough to try and turn her friends against her or whatever you’re thinking of doing.”

She blinked. “How…?”

Violet smiled. _A smile. Good._ “What, you think you’re the only one here who knows her sister? I know you’re not as innocent as you act half the time.”

_Huh._ They reached the house and began walking towards the door.

“Only _half _the time?” she raised a playful eyebrow, “What makes you think it’s only half the time?”

Violet snorted. “Because I’ve known you all my life. Half the time you act like you’re stupid and the other half you actually are.”

“Hey!” She smacked her shoulder as hard as she could, but Violet only laughed and pulled her keys out of her pocket.

“Don’t get angry just ‘cause it’s true,” her sister was barely keeping her grin at bay as she unlocked the door.

Catherine narrowed her eyes. “Brat.”

Violet snickered and walked into the house. “Yeah, yeah. I’m gonna go to my room.” She turned around to look at her and breathed out through her nose. “Look, I know that even though I said not to, you’re gonna do _something,_ but… whatever it is you do, just keep me out of it. Okay? I’ve already gotten enough shit from those girls and it hasn’t even been a week yet.”

_What the hell, am I that easy to read?_

Her sister huffed in amusement. “Don’t look at me like that. Most people buy your whole innocent bystander thing, just not me.”

_Dammit, she shouldn’t say stuff like that in here. Who knows who could be listening?_ She rushed to speak. “Alright. I promise I’ll do my best to keep you out of it.”

Violet nodded. “Good.” And with that, she was up the stairs.

She leaned against the wall and sighed. _If Violet can see through me, who else can? Hah. See through me. Ghosts. _She shook her head with a small smile. _Good thing I’m taking acting lessons, I guess._

“I thought I heard you come back,” her mom said from the archway that led to the rest of the ground floor. She looked at her questioningly. “Did I hear your sister with you?”

She straightened up. “Um, yeah, I finished in time to go pick her up and thought ‘why not?’”

Vivien regarded her with a pleasantly surprised expression. “Huh.” She shrugged. “Alright, well, do you want to come to the kitchen?” She smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Apparently we have a housekeeper.”

_Already? Well, actually this would be the perfect time for her to show up._ Her voice took on a skeptical tone. “Sure, um, and how much does she cost?”

“That’s the thing,” her mother said with a disbelieving shake of her head. “She says she’s free. She has some sort of attachment to the place,” _oh you have no idea,_ “and just wants to serve us because she served the previous residents, too.”

“Huh… Well, alright, I guess.” She gestured towards the archway. “Lead the way.”

Moira was beautiful. Even at the age she appeared to be and in the simple black dress she wore, the flaming red of her hair contrasted with her pale skin prettily and her face had a kind look to it that made the rest of her features even more attractive. Maybe not attractive in a romantic sort of way, but in a deeper, more maternal way. In a way that made Catherine want to tell her all of her deepest, darkest secrets because she looked like she could help. _Maybe only one or two secrets for now, just to be safe._

Vivien placed her hands on Catherine’s shoulders and spoke. “Moira, this is my oldest daughter, Catherine. Sweetheart, this is our new housekeeper, Moira O’Hara.”

She smiled at her brightly. “It’s nice to meet you, Moira. Mom told me you’ve been working here for a while?”

Moira smiled small from her seat beside the kitchen island and looked up at her with her one good eye. “That’s right.” She gently shook her head. “Simply horrible, what happened to those boys.” She added milk to her cup and stirred.

When her mother let go of her and went to grab another cup, Cat sat down on the bar stool closest to Moira. “You mean the previous owners?”

Moira nodded. “Yes. They were always good to me. I… I was the one who found their bodies.”

Vivien slid a cup towards Cat. “Oh my god… That must have been horrible.”

She said nothing.

Catherine filled her cup with liquid from the teapot. _Honey and cinnamon. Nice._ “What, um,” she looked up at Moira, “what happened? If you don’t mind me asking?” She set the teapot back down onto the island. “I mean, the woman who sold us the house said it was a murder-suicide, but…” she glanced at her mom, “Why would somebody nice like that kill their partner?” The tea was scolding hot, and she did her best to not let it show.

Moira was silent for a moment. “They started arguing more often and more intensely leading up to the incident. Money, I think.”

“But,” Vivien’s eyebrows were furrowed, “you don’t just kill the person you love because of money issues.”

Moira gave them a look that said ‘what can you do?’ “Sometimes people just go mad.”

_Or get murdered by ghosts_.

“I cleaned the mess,” she raised her cup to her lips, “you’d never know.”

Vivien looked concerned and rested her elbows on the island. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

Moira nodded gently.

“Do you ever get tired of cleaning up other people’s messes?”

She paused for a moment and then spoke. “We’re women. It’s what we do… I just get paid for it.”

That coaxed a smile out of both of them.

Their conversation was interrupted when her dad entered the room.

“Oh, hey,” Vivien said, straightening up, “this is my husband, Ben. Ben, this is Moira O’Hara. She was the housekeeper for the previous owners.”

Catherine could see the exact moment his attitude shifted. His smile dropped and his eyes widened ever so slightly, but if she didn’t know what to look for she doubted she’d notice. She fought the urge to groan.

“N-nice to meet you,” he tried to smile pleasantly.

_I should talk to her before this gets out of hand, shouldn’t I?_ Her parents were doing relatively well all things considering, and she didn’t want them to fight constantly like she remembered them doing in the show. _Speaking of, I should probably see if Violet’s talked to Dad yet._That time she did sigh. _So much to do, so little time._

The Moira she could see nodded with a gentle smile. A car horn sounded from outside. “That’s my cab.” _Good improv._ She looked at her mother, smile intact. “I would use the lavatory first if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, go ahead,” Vivien responded, and Moira exited the room.

_This is my chance. _Her pulse began to speed up. _Should I? Should I risk being heard? Does it even matter? The pros of befriending Moira must outweigh the cons of being found out surely?_

_Screw it._

“Hey, um, I’m gonna go upstairs. Mr. Adams told us to come up with a monologue for next time, plus I still have that drawing I need to finish, so…”

Vivien looked confused. “Mr. Adams?”

“Acting teacher.”

Vivien’s mouth made an “oh” shape. “Alright.”

Ben was still visibly flustered when she left the kitchen. As soon as she was out of their line of sight, she quickened her pace and all but ran over to the downstairs bathroom. Light was peeking out from the crack beneath the door and she could hear the sink running.

_She probably just turned the faucet on in case someone passed by. Unless ghosts need to pee, too. Do ghosts need to pee? _She shook her head with a huff. _Now isn’t the time for questions like that, Catherine._

The sound of running water stopped and she could hear feet quietly shuffling towards the door.

_Oh god, it’s happening._

The light turned off a split second before Moira opened the door. She seemed surprised to see Catherine there and blinked rapidly.

“Oh, did you need to go inside?”

She was quite sure her body was beginning to shake from the adrenaline, and her voice coming out unsteady supported that theory. “N-no, I…” she closed her eyes and swallowed, “is there anywhere we could talk in private?” _Oh god, it’s out there. I can’t go back now._

Moira looked at her inquisitively. “I’m not sure I quite understand. We _are_ in private.”

_Oh no, oh no, what have I done?_ “Are we?” She looked at the air around her.

Moira continued to act ignorant. “Are you feeling well, miss? Perhaps you should drink some more tea.”

She let out a shaky sigh. “_Don’t_. I-I know. I _know_… If you know what I mean.”

Moira stayed silent and searched her eyes. For what, she wasn’t sure, but she wasn’t patient enough to wait and find out.

_If I wasn’t fucked before I’m pretty sure I’ll be fucked now. _“Constance shouldn’t have shot you in the eye. The color’s really pretty.”

Her façade finally dropped and she stared at her in shock. They stayed quiet for a moment before her face turned neutral. “Are you a medium?”

Catherine’s nerves made her have to swallow back a giggle. “No. No, I’m… I don’t know what I am, actually. I-I’m human, and I can’t see anything that doesn’t want to be seen, b-but I know things I shouldn’t.” She rubbed her forehead. It felt clammy._ My heart’s beating awfully fast, isn’t it?_ “I know, like, _way_ too many things…”

“May I visit you after? Your parents will become suspicious if I don’t return shortly.”

She nodded eagerly. “Yes; please. O-oh, and, um, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about this. I’m sure they’ll find out at some point, b-but I’d like to keep things calm for as long as possible.”

Moira gave a gentle nod. “Of course.”

“Good. Well, um,” she fiddled with her bracelet and gave a shaky smile, “it was nice meeting you.”

Moira smiled back, though she was still clearly shaken. Catherine left for her room before she could have a chance to respond.

She shut her bedroom door and leaned against it, needing support for her shivering body. _That just happened. That actually just happened. _She slid down to the floor and tugged on her hair. She could feel her chest rising and falling rapidly and the control over her breathing slipping. _Fuck, no, I don’t have time for a panic attack. Not now._

But as she tried to calm down she only made things worse, and what was at first an attempt at breathing deeply became her clutching at her throat, mind begging for air. _I can’t breathe. Oh, god. I can’t breathe. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die in here and be trapped forever. I can’t. I can’t. It’s too much. Please stop. Please just make it stop._

She could see something black appear in the corner of her eye and looked up to see Moira, wide-eyed with concern. Her lips were moving but her words were silent. _What are you saying? Why can’t I hear what you’re saying? Have I gone deaf now, too? Isn’t it enough that I’m going to die? Why does my scalp hurt? It burns. Oh, god. I can’t breathe. Water. Water. Water._

Moira disappeared, but she still couldn’t breathe. _Don’t just leave. Help me. Help me. Take me outside so I can breathe. Oh, god. Water. Water._

_“It’s alright.” _Was that a voice? She looked up and saw Moira kneeling down in front of her. She pressed something cold into her hands. Her voice was only muffled now. _“Drink. You’re alright.”_ She instinctively raised the object to her lips and realized it was a glass full of liquid.

_She’s helping me._ With that thought, she started gulping it down so quickly that Moira had to intervene and get her to drink it slower.

Before long, Moira put a hand on the glass and stopped her drinking. _“Miss? Look at me.” _Her voice was barely clearer. _I can’t breathe. Why can I still not breathe?_

_“Look at me. Breathe with me,” _she said and placed a hand over her own abdomen. She breathed in and her stomach went out. She breathed out through her mouth, slowly, and her stomach went back in. In. Out. Out. In.

Cat couldn’t tell when, but Moira smiled at her gently and said, “Like that, yes. Wonderful. Keep breathing with me.” _I can hear her properly. Shit, this is so embarrassing._ In. Out. Out. In.

“I-I’m sorry.” In. Out. Out. In.

Moira shook her head. “There’s nothing to apologize for. You’ve been very brave, miss. Keep breathing.” In. Out. Out. In.

She could feel her heartbeat going back to normal. In. Out. Out. In. _It’s okay. Everything’s gonna be okay. You’re not gonna die. You’ve been very brave, miss. Keep breathing. _In. Out. Out. In.

If she focused hard enough, she could hear herself beginning to calm down. Her short, rapid breaths had turned into slower, quieter ones, and she raised the glass of water up to her lips for a drink.

In. Out. Out. In.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Moira closed her eyes and sighed. “To know the things you know and only now begin to panic shows a certain strength of character.” She gazed at her gently. “I wish I could tell you to leave this place. To pack your bags and take your family back to Boston, but… the house has taken a liking to you all. There’s nothing I can say.”

_That’s what I was afraid of._ She stood up with her help. “Didn’t Constance manage to escape? I-I mean surely there’s some way…”

The edge of her lip twitched upward. “Constance was always a miserable woman. There’s little pleasure in corrupting something already so tainted. Why not use it instead?” She smoothed out her skirt and sighed. “Though I suppose I’m glad. Spending eternity with that woman sounds like a horror.”

She tilted her head. “Is that it? The house corrupts until death? Then why hasn’t Adelaide died yet? She’s hardly terrible.” As the words left her mouth she felt her heart drop in realization. _But she will. Constance kills everybody around her. ‘Why not use it instead?’_

Moira was looking at her curiously. “Have you had a thought? Your face is pale.”

“I-” _She’s going to die. No._ She shook her head. _No. She won’t. Not now that I’m here._ “I need to protect her. She’s a good person and my friend, I can’t let her die.” She looked at Moira, feeling her resolve beginning to harden. “And I won’t keep you trapped here.”

Her eyes widened.

“I know how to free you. You’re a good person, too. You don’t deserve this.”

Moira opened and closed her mouth, evidently at a loss for words. “Do you truly mean that?”

She smiled. “I do.” She thought of something and grimaced. “However, while I’m still living here it would be good to have a ghostly ally. There are things,” _is a baby considered a thing? _“that if not prevented could _literally_ cause the apocalypse, and you’re basically the only person I know at this point that might help prevent them from happening.”

Moira’s eyes hardened slightly and she swallowed. “And once you’ve no more need of my help? If those things come to pass regardless, or are no longer possible? If you die here? Will you still free me then?”

She nodded. “I will. If it makes you feel better, I can tell you how to free yourself so that even if I break my promise you don’t have to suffer here much longer.”

“I know how to free myself. My bones need to be removed from the property. Nobody has been willing to do so, that’s all.”

She blinked in surprise. _Oh. That’s right. She cried when Dad built that… was it a shed? Or was it a gazebo?_

“Then I’ll give you the number of a group of women that can free you. You’d only need to call them and tell them your predicament. Ask for Fiona or Cordelia Goode. They know about spirits and the like; you won’t have to waste your time convincing them.”

Cat could see the hopeful look she was trying to suppress. Moira opened her mouth. “Give me the phone number and I’ll aid you gladly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it’s about time she’s had a panic attack, no?


End file.
